


Sherlock Sawada

by Honourableknight



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Sherlock homes!Tunsayoshi, might change the title later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honourableknight/pseuds/Honourableknight
Summary: Sherlock homes was prepared for death. He wasn't prepared to end up in a world with low crime rates, however.Or: Wherein Reborn was not expecting a student who used to be the world's best detective.





	1. The Beginning of the End

Tsunayoshi Sawada was born just like any other baby, perhaps a bit quiet. And the glaring at anyone other than his mother might have been a hint.

But little Tuna-fishy was adored by his mother, and she would accept him the way he was.

Months pass, and he starts to grow up. Her little tuna is so smart, and he picks up motor skills early. She is so proud of him.

Certainly enough to document his first words, garbled though they may be:

"A kingdom for a cup of joe." It sounds foreign, perhaps her little fishy had picked something up from her husband's associates. 

Her family has always been smart, Tsuna must have picked up on it.

Her husband comes to visit for a week, and isn’t it sad? He's visiting his own home instead of living there. He brings his associate with him.

Tsuna-fishy, though he stubbornly refuses the nick-name, is five.

She has him playing with a pink ball he got for his birthday on the porch when her husband arrives.  
"Anata-Chan!" Nana calls, as soon her he drives up.

He leaves the car, and rushes to embrace her.

His associate follows after, a calm old man with a cane.

 

It's at this point that Tuna-fishy comes to investigate, standing behind his mother shyly.

"Come greet your father, Tsuna." She says, nudging her son from behind her leg. He's so small, somehow she want to keep him there.

He steps out from behind her, one hand nervously deciding if it wants to remain clinging to her skirt stuck on his back.

"Italian Mafia." He says, a glint in his eye when something catches his attention. He spreads a wide grin, all teeth.

How sweet, her little tuna was usually very shy.

"And you're his boss: rather high up on the food chain, aren't you." He states, his grin grows wider.

Nana can see his feet switching to walk around him slowly to examine him. Like he does when he's given a new toy or puzzle.

"Ninth, with... four children. No, three: one's adopted. Heirs? Not much time for fami-"

"AHAHAHAHA, you’re so funny Tuna-Fishy! Me and my boss need to talk for a bit, honey would you mind?" Iemitsu forces out.

Nana shakes her head, serene smile ever present on her face. She goes to the kitchen to prepare some drinks for their guest.

 

Iemitsu all but drags Timoteo to another room.

"We need to seal him." He states in Italian, running his hands through his hair like there was no tomorrow.

Timoteo nods, that matter was settled rather quickly. He would admit he was a bit taken aback by the boy. He had been prepared for something like this but...

"I promise you this, if you attempt anything of the sort I will plead child-abuse and get mother to divorce you." Another voice states, in perfect Italian.

Timoteo cringes, eyes snapping down to the inactive sky. No flames, but that was the highest degree of hyper-intuition he had ever witnessed. He would make a fine boss.

Iemitsu reaches down to the boy, probably to ruffle his hair or something of the like.

 

The boy reaches for something in his pocket and promptly tastes his father.

"Forgive me sir," He says as steps aside from his father falling body, "I've been told I’m an incurable show-off."

He doesn't seen sincere at all.

"Ah, since when have you been able to speak Italian?" Timoteo asks, instead. Iemitsu was still lying on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

He would be fine, his job gave him worst. His FRIENDS had given him worst. Though, Lal march might be a bit loathed to admit friendship.

"Since I was born and overheard you speaking to my father." He deadpans.

Was he lying? Or was he really that aware since he was born. A prodigy, which could be dangerous.

He must have sensed something from Timoteo, because he narrows his eyes.

"KAA-SAN!" He lets out, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Well, so much for sealing the boy now. Unless he wanted to send for a mist to alter Mrs. Sawada's memories.

That... Might not be a bad idea, they were already toeing the line of her knowing with the little stunt Tuna pulled earlier.

Besides, he would rather their safety then his likableness.

He reaches down the boy, letting his flames seep even as he tries to dodge away. Timoteo didn't get this far without knowing how to handle himself in a fight.

He stills, before crumbling at his feet.

"Oh M- TUNSA?" Mrs. Sawada grabs the boy away from his grasp. Glaring at him as she takes in the sight of her unconscious husband and fainting child.

"OUT!" She shouts, raising her voice as well as grabbing... is that a gun?!

She's unexperienced, which is actually much worst for him because she might hurt herself.

He raises his hands, backing away towered the door.

He would talk to Iemitsu about this later. Damage control team would be sent afterwards.

He leaves, his cheerful driving him back to the airport.

It's a few years later before he hears about Tsunayoshi Sawada again.

\---

 

It's been seven years three months two days six hours and five minutes since he had been 'sealed' by the man.

The most notable side-effects was a clear decrease in motor skills and ballence. I had tripped on fifty-seven non-existent objects within the last year alone. This was already a larger improvement then by previous years.

He signs, placing down his newspaper.

There was absolutely nothing interesting to do. No one came to him with interesting cases.

"Tsuna? It's time for school!" His mother calls up from the bottom floor, the sound reaching his ears with the smell of eggs.

She had prepared miso to go along with it, how quaint.

He sighs, raising himself from his bed. The sun was angled at... 10:00 A.M. His estimated time of arrival to the learning facility would be around lunch if he kept up his habits.

One of the worst things about this life was the need for a schooling. Which he absolutely did not require.

He walks down the stairs.

"Good morning, mother." He says, sitting down at the place provided.

His mother sighs fondly, rolling her eyes a bit before placing down a plate of eggs in front of him. Miso in a bowl next to it, as expected.

"Morning Tuna-Fish."

He turns a frown to his food. '

The woman has the gall to tease him for 'pouting'.

"So, tuna, what have you done this morning?" She says, with a charming smile.

He brings out his newspaper, placing it on the table for her to see.

"This man is robbed the bank, he's framing his wife." He states blandly. Pointing out the flaws of his plan in intricate detail.

It would have worked- if the man wasn't a complete amateur and cleaned up his prints on the handle of the safe.

"Oh?" She says, leaning over to inspect the picture of the man.

HEADLINES: Woman robs bank, husband forced as accomplice.

"Mr. Sasagawa would be happy to know that." She hums, distastefully inspecting the man printed on the newspaper.

Tsuna doesn't reply, taking this time to sip down his miso.

There is a companionable silence.

"Oh, Tsuna, a flyer came in the mail today." She says, holding up the presumed flyer.

"It’s for a private tutor! And it was addressed for Iemitsu."

There’s a sharp gleam in her eye, the way her teeth poked out beneath her smile.

"It’s obviously mafia." He scoffs. "You'd think they'd be DISCREET."

His mother throws a worried looked at his nonchalant,

"Be careful, Tsunayoshi."

He nods.

He was still wary of the fairer sex.

 

He takes his school bag, adjusting his tie with hand before stepping out the door.

 

He's halfway to the police-station when he sees the signs he is being followed. It was a distinct possibility with the warning they sent to the house.

The slight shift in the atmosphere, a shadow lingering in the corner of his eye. As well as a flash of a garish color of orange.

If they wanted him dead, he would already be dead.

He lets himself show no signs of noticing, keep his heartrate steady, relax his shoulders, and resist his hand twitching for his baton. He wants to see what this person is going to do. For now they seem to be observing him.

The stature of the person had to be around only a foot tall, but the skill in which they moved had to be gained over many years. However they didn't spend this time in stealth... but what then?

He breathes in.

The smell of coffee and.... gunpowder.

Assassin? They preferred more silent weapons: gunpowder was much too brash for any kind of stealth unless they ran him down to a more secluded area. Redundant.

No, this was a person either amateur enough, or confident enough they used a gun. Quite regularly. So a pro.

A very, very, short pro with bad taste in hats and a penchant for coffee.

 

He stops at the police station, looking around sharply as he swings open the door. Perhaps he could leave the pamphlet with them.

"Tsuna!" Officer Sasagawa calls out.

"Officer." Tsuna replies stiffly. "The man did it, you'll find his prints on the door to the safe, his tools underneath the floorboard as well as a sample of the woman's DNA in a bottle. Her corpse will be buried in the attic behind her house. Her house, not his, they've been divorced for at least two years but kept the legal documents for the tax benefits."

"Good to know." The officer sighs, writing it down. "Sometimes I wonder if you weren't the culprit all along."

"Nonsense," Tsuna scoffs, "I wouldn’t do an amateur job at it."

"See? See this is the kind of thing that makes me worry to the EXTREME." The officer gets up, going to the cash register and taking out the allotted reward money envelope.

Tsuna takes the envelope, exchanging it for his pamphlet for a 'tutor'.

"What's this?"

"Italian Mafia recruitment advertisement. Shell company, perhaps hired by my father." Tsuna replies.

"I can't tell if you're joking or not?"

"When have I ever joked?"

"Right." Sasagawa says, running a hand through his hair. "I'll take a look into it."

"Thank you."

With that, Tsuna walks out of the police station, tucking his reward money into the false bottom he installed in his bag.

He fiddles with the corner of his jacket, looking around.

The stalker is gone. For now, anyway. Perhaps he found whatever it was he was looking for? Or perhaps they had reservations following him into a police station.

He continues onward to school, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

 

\---

 

Reborn narrows his eyes, watching Tsunayoshi talk to the officer. So this was a regular thing, then.

He would have to get his student into shape.

There was an accidental, late to school- And then there was just deliberately staying in bed four hours after school started.

 

The officer makes a gesture, turning toward his desk in familiar resignation.

He could only make out an odd word here and there. His student-to-be was talking to the police officer as the officer wrote down whatever the child was saying.

The boy’s own face was turned away from the window, but Reborn had a feeling that looking for expressions on the boy's face was like asking wall for a proper conversation.

Reborn reaches up, allowing Leon to climb onto his arm. He pets the Chameleon.

"Hm..."

He leaves before the boy can exit the police-station.

 

\---

 

Tsunayoshi arrives at school exactly as the clock strikes twelve.

"Good morning Tsuna-san." says the secretary of the disciplinary club.

"Good morning." He responds politely.

He found a new sheet of paper lined up on his desk. The price he has to pay for his schedule, a desk job. An imitation of military/gang enforcement of all things. His brother would be laughing his head off.

He stares down at it for a second, takes out a pen, and jots down the answer.

"Good evening, Cheryl."

"Have a lovely day, Mr. Sawada."

 

.

He walks into class, precisely at twelve 'o five. Look at him, counting seconds, is this what a regular job did to him? He tripped, twice, on the way here.

"Mr. Sawada, how pleasant of you to join us~" Professor Nezu drawls, malicious intent carved into his body language.

The investigation of his background yielded some results of bribery to some of his fellow school-board members, a few minor infractions. Suspected of changing scores on tests due to dislike of certain student according to the sheet of paper left on his desk.

They weren't exactly right, though Nezu had made a habit of pointing out exactly whom he thought should die, he barely skirting around school policy. Pity, he might have made a half-decent investigation if he tried.

"Would you care to solve the question on the board?"

A textbook collage level problem,

"X = 5 Y = 3." Tsuna states, blandly.

He takes his seat, in back next to the door.

"So you see. Class, if the one student who doesn't bother to show up on time can answer a simple problem. I see no reason why any of you shouldn’t."

A student sitting near the window hesitantly raises his hand.

"Yes, you in the back."

"Sir, I’m not entirely convinced he's human..."

Tsunayoshi sighs, staring almost wistfully out the window. Regretfully, attendance was required by his mother.

 

After the day is over, he returns home.

The feeling of being watched had returned seven times throughout the day, meaning his stalker hadn't given up after his trip to the police station.

Home should be safe, for all that Nana had stopped relying on his checks every month, they had remained within the good graces of her husband enough he shouldn't want them dead. Yet. Honestly he barely got a good read on the man when he visited so many years ago.

Tsuna's senses weren't on par just yet, the developmental stages of being a child were rather straining on ones limitations.

He turns into the pathway of the Sawada residence.

The moment he opens the door, he notices the extra pair of shoes on the ground.

Small, like it was a child. His stalker then.

"I'm home." He says into the house, yet another policy of his mother.

The stalker was waiting in the kitchen, going by the smell of fresh coffee in the air, he had made himself quite comfortable.

There was really not option to go back, at this point. He had come to his mother's house.

"Welcome home!" Came the strained voice of his mother. Hesitance, but not immediately hostile. A neutral threat.

Deep breathe, calm your pulse.

He is not here to kill him. That much is blatantly obvious. He was sent by Tsunayoshi’s father, mafia related. He is small, the size of a child. Child to be seen as harmless.

The mafia wants something from him. What?

He has nothing of value to them yet. His 'job' at the police station was too inconsequential to be anything of value to them. They commit crimes, not solve them.

That left relations, his father was somewhere high in the chain of command. Not the 'boss' like the elder man who had attacked him, but used to commanding others. Powerful, but not a threat to the 'Ninth'.

Loyal? Perhaps. No, he didn't try to impress 'Ninth' like he wanted his job. They had some form of business relationship akin to partnership but with a clear distinction of who was on top of whom. A separate branch.

His father had a gun on him. The elder man did not, therefore he was expecting Tsunayoshi’s father to act as bodyguard to him.

Now, where did Tsuna fall in all this?

Blood. Mafia families were all about whom carried someone else's blood. They wanted him to become one of them, and their recruitment pitch was to send a child hitmen. Like an ad that showed small puppies on the packaging of cigarettes.

They sent a flyer of a home tutor, fake, but enough to fool his mother. They were prepared to stay for a longer period of time rather than kidnapping him.

They wanted to train him.

Tsuna enters the dining room, letting his eyes sweep over the room before landing back on the small figure seated at the table.

"Ciaosu."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read and comment! I've edited a bit by copy/pasting into Word and using it's spell-checker... so hopefully its not so eye scratching XD. 
> 
> I appreciate all the feedback concerning the story and spelling issues!


	2. The child Tutor

Tsunayoshi sets down his bag to the side. He takes a seat opposing the small child.

"Tsuna, this is Reborn, he is the tutor Anata hired." Nana calls from the kitchen. 

"Pleasure to meet you." 

Reborn eyes him through his deceptively calm facade. Any teenager in this situation would be asking a few questions to go along with the introduction. Of course, Tsunayoshi Sawada had proven to be a bit smarter than average.

"Do you know why I am here?

"Of course, you're here to train me to join the Italian mafia." The boy says bluntly, his eyes are completely trained on reborn though his body language remains casual.

"My father hired you combined with the fact that you've been stalking me for the entire day suggests you are a knowable source of organized crime if not a veteran. I am surprised that you are a child, however."

"Ho?" Reborn says, staring cutely up at the teen.

It has the desire effect of making the teen twitch for a second before his features are smoothed back into the calm facade; at least he can use this dreaded curse for something. The boy's hyper intuition should have been sealed, so all this had to be gleaned by actual hard work. Certainly not as entertaining as Dino, but perhaps a bit more interesting.

He was half-expecting the boy to be like Dino: clumsy and perhaps slightly less stubborn. 

Perhaps he was inverted? Certainly it matched up well enough for now. Sky flame users were crowd-pleasers, whilst Inverted sky's only invested in those they though worth their time. Reborn would need to keep this in mind when Tsuna got his first set of guardians.

The boy was smart, but there was only so much a baby teen could do. The fact that there was a frozen war over being Decimo meant the boy needed guardians fast. He already had a similarly aged rookie hitman on his way from Italy. The rest would have to be picked up as they trained.

"Reborn's going to be living with us from now on." Nana Sawada comes from the kitchen with two plates of lunch, distinctly English styled. Strange, he didn't see any mention of an English background. He would have to investigate that later.

"...How quaint." Tsuna says, seemingly dismissing the matter.

Of course, being the world's best hitman for so long let him read past a person's facade to see the twitch behind the mask. 

 

 

Tsuna wakes up at five in the morning as per usual, the sun barely awake to shine through his window. Mindful not to disturb the toddler in the guest room who most likely noticed him anyway.

His mother is still asleep in the master bedroom as he passes it.

He makes his way to the door, standing before it in wait.

*Thunk*

He opens the door, picking up the newspaper. 

The delivery boy raises a hand in parting, cycling out of view before he can attempt to return the gesture.

Tsuna closes the door, letting the lock click into place before unfolding the daily paper.

He shuffles through the different articles, before depositing the daily comics and sports on the counter where his mother would get to them. She had taken a liking to them some time after he had shown an interest in fencing.

He takes the news articles and police reports back up to his room, making himself a cup of coffee before he left.

“Hey, Tsuna, what is that?” Asks the hitman, coming out of the guestroom in pajamas.

“Police reports.” He says dully, “There is more coffee in the kitchen.”

The toddler gives him an interested look before walking down the stairs to the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of Joe. 

It could be preferable if he didn’t bother Tsuna while he was looking through the crime reports, but a child would be curious. Perhaps he could teach him?

Tsuna takes another sip from his mug, setting down the daily paper on his desk before sitting down. 

The only crime for the day was a serial-vandalism spanning cross the city in a few select locations. The messages, while humorous, were mostly ploys to get the city to re-paint some of their walls. The murder from yesterday had been a refreshing break from the monotony of petty crimes.

There was a report of a sudden explosions somewhere further out in the country, some speculation of hired demo man sent to kill a sheep for some long family feud. 

It was odd enough to catch his attention, but too far for him to travel without incurring the wrath of his mother. 

 

“Tsuna.” Says a voice from his doorway.

Tsuna turns away from his musings to pay attention to the small toddler. There was a very cartoony-looking chameleon on his hat, probably from some intentional mutation. The hitman’s clothes were clean, pressed neatly without the signs of crumpling. Not the suit from yesterday which had gotten a fold from when he had sat down at the table. 

“I am here to train you to be a Mafia boss.” Reborn continues, after seeing he had gotten Tsuna’s attention without too much trouble.

“Am I to believe that you aren’t allowed to speak of it in front of Kaa-san?” Tsuna replies, taking in the information.

So, not just the mafia, mafia boss. 

Not his father, his father’s boss.

However, he distinctly remembered Timoteo having four other children. Three if you wanted blood relations. 

“No.” Confirms Reborn. 

“What happened to the other heirs?” Tsuna asks next. Besides the ones he knows about, there should be all least dozens of others. 

“Assassinated.” 

“My father?”

“Ineligible.”

Tsuna hums, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. He didn’t want to be mafia boss, but it would certainly be interesting.

“What of promoting a member within the group?” He asks.

Reborn jumps up onto his desk, sparing a glance down at the daily paper.

“They have to be blood related, Timoteo chose you.” He says.

Tsuna raises an eyebrow, this would have to be investigated later. After all, organized crime wall all about exploiting loopholes to get what you wanted. What was the motive?

Of course, there was no use debating the merits with the tutor. It was not his job to distinguish if his being hired was necessary.

“When does training start?”

“Right now.”

Tsuna widens his eyes as the once comically proportioned chameleon glows, before turning into a handgun in the toddler’s hand.

\---

 

Nana Sawada smiles fondly as her son tumbles down the stairs, helplessly dodging the rubber bullets from the tutor. 

It wasn’t that she was so cruel as to enjoy her son’s agony, but she trusted him enough to keep himself safe. 

It was lovely to see the small child make himself comfortable, he must have had such a hard life growing up in the mafia. Already acting like an adult even in an unfamiliar environment. She really couldn’t fault Iemitsu for sending the child their way.

“I don’t suppose you have a license for that?” Asks Tsuna dully, now fully dressed in his school uniform and holding up a pan for protection while ducking behind the stairs. He had prioritized his weak spots, and found cover: she was so proud.

“Leon is a pet.” Reborn says, the sound of firing another round. Miraculously, the gun disappears from view before he steps down from the stairs.

“Good morning, Mama.” 

“Good morning Kaa-san.” 

“Good morning, Reborn, Tsuna, you’re up early.” She greets. Hopefully it wouldn’t mess with his schedule too badly.

Tsuna glances over at Reborn from the corner of his eyes, debating if the threat was fully over. 

She sets out some light breakfast for them on the table, mainly some toast and scrambled eggs. Usually she had to prepare it later for it to be fresh when he came down. She didn’t know Reborn’s preference yet, so she defaulted to eggs. 

“Did anything interesting happen?” she asks.

“Rumors of a demolition Hitman being hired to kill a sheep.” Tsuna says, taking a seat.

Reborn sits across from him in the highchair Nana had dug out of the attic. She remembered when Tsuna was that young, so serious for one so small. He was adorable. 

“Is it true?” She wonders, taking her own seat at the head of the table.

“Unlikely, the explosions were entirely unrelated to the murder. The animal was killed at least a few hours before the explosions took place. A bit late if they wanted to cover it up, and unnecessary to the kill.”

“Ho?” Asks reborn, making a cute inquiring sound.

Tsuna gives him an unimpressed glance, twisting his arm to feel out the bruise that would be forming later.  
“There were two separate indications of puddles. One clearly a bloodstain, and the other only distinguished by the plants nearby it: a water stain. The blood had left separate puddles before being covered in rubble from the nearby explosion. Had it died by the explosion, the blood wouldn’t be so nearly separated.”

“Do you know who did it?” She asks conversationally. 

Tsuna shakes his head,  
“I would have to go to the site and investigate before making any solid conclusions.”

She hums approvingly. 

Tunsa-kun looks down at his food, humbly flattered by the praise.

\----

 

“Tsuna, you should go to school now.” Reborn speak up a few minutes later.

“I have an arrangement with the school-board that allows me to come at a later time.” Tsuna says, looking back down at his newspaper. Now studying an article of serial-graffiti. 

The chameleon crawls around Reborn’s shoulder.

“A good boss should attend set an example for his peers.” 

Tsuna stands up without further prompting, tucking the news-article in his pocket for later use. His daily schedule would have to be revised to work around the new mafia tutor. At least until he figured out the glowing chameleon. 

“Ittekimasu.” He calls out to his mother.

“Itterasshai.” She calls back from the kitchen. “Have a nice day, Tsuna-kun!”

\---

 

Predictably, the toddler follows him. Discretely walking on one side the concrete walls lining the road and keeping pace with him.

“What do you know about ‘Sealing’?” Tsuna asks, once he catches a flash of black and yellow from his peripheral vision.

Something lands on his head, within the folds of gravity defying hair he had been cursed with. 

“Sealing?” The hitman parrots, shifting to make himself more comfortable in his throne of light brown hair.

“Something to do with hallucinogenic flames.” 

“Ho?” The child says, trailing off in deep thought without answering.

 

\---

 

Tsuna pauses for a fraction of a second, before continuing to walk. There’s a girl up ahead in front of the school. She is sporting some bright orange hair, very cute.

“Who’s that Tsuna?” Reborn asks, jumping down from his pitch to land on the ground next to him.

Tsuna regards him for a moment.

“Kyoko Sasagawa, school idol.”

“Ho?” Reborn says, letting the pieces click into his mind. “Do you have a crush on her?”

Tsuna head freezes for a second, 

“She is-. “ He begins.

 

*BANG*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Dun dun dunnn


	3. Stalker

Tsunayoshi collapses, falling down on his side and crumpling onto the ground. 

Reborn hum, stepping back from the teen to watch the show. Leon shift back into a chameleon, sitting on his hat.

The body twitches, shakily at first, before standing up. A burst appearing from seemingly nowhere, ripping off all but his underclothes. In this case: an undershirt and a pair of boxers, a bit more conservative then the norm. 

“Must Solve With Dying Will!” Tsuna roars, gritting out the words like his mind was trying to solve his current situation but being overrun by the bullet.

He dashes over to the girl, having her flinch back before he stops a few feet from her. Oh? Manners even with the dying will. Or perhaps he’s just scared of girls? Sad.

Reborn sneaks over, keeping himself out of view from the girl.

Tsunayoshi has remained silent. 

Reborn watches closely as Tsuna is holding something in his hand. He looks closer, edging along the wall before he can identify it. A phone?

Tsuna stiffens, turning suddenly toward a bush.

*CLICK*

He snap a picture, typing in some buttons before pressing a final button. Was he… texting?

The flames die out, letting Tsuna deflate. He catches himself before tripping, falling down. He stand up, looking around at the surroundings in something close to shock.

The first thing he does is to put more distance between himself and Kyoko. Was he really scared of girls?

He bows, politely. 

“I apologize for the scene.”

\---

 

“What did you do?” Reborn asks, jumping down next to Tsuna.

Tsuna narrows his eyes, the child had shot him with some kind of strong drug. He had died. He felt the impact through his skull, the vibrations of lacerations in the brain that couldn’t be healed. Then, he had been like one possessed, caught unaware in a kind of trance that carried out his desire.

This… could be dangerous. Extremely so.

“Perhaps I could re-direct that question at yourself.” He says. First some kind of sealing at a young age, then a transforming chameleon, now bullets that carry one’s last desire.

Some kind of fast acting drugs, perhaps, powdering after impact. Crippled inner-ear from childhood to effect his balance: the chameleon was actually harder to explain. 

The chameleon, unlike the other two incidents, glowing instead of producing flames. Then it shot out bullets without having to be loaded, the cause and effect of mass grossly distorted even if it ate after. 

Tsuna clears his thoughts.

Think of it in a new angle, what causes the flames? The man from before merely became on flames, no time to take any kind drug while Tsuna had been watching him carefully.

Therefore, it the bullet wasn’t required for him. Only acting to activating something that was already there. 

But this would mean that everyone had flames, only unreached or perhaps a hereditary mutation?

It was a strange trance, leaving him focused on everything but only able to follow one path. Barreling through before he had a proper plan of action, with the desperation of a dying man. He has said something at the start of it all, ‘I will solve with my DYING WILL.’?

“I shot you with a ‘dying will bullet’.” Reborn says, casually. 

“Dying will.” Tsunayoshi says carefully.

Assuming those were how the flames were activated, then it should be simple to summon them once again. Just focus on not dying.

He knew what it was like to die. To be desperate enough to force yourself alive to solve one final mystery. It was helpful to pin down the mindset when faking one’s own death after all.

He pauses, closing his eyes to visualize. He remembered a few minutes ago when he was shot with the bullet. He wants to solve the mystery, he wants to do this one last thing before it’s all over. Just this final bow.

Flames. Not his, they feel like Timoteo, they’re stopping him.

Ah, this must be the ‘sealing’? Then they were worried about him activating his ‘dying will’. Somehow connecting it as ‘hyper intuition’. 

It would be hard to keep one’s balance when you had no will to live. That had never been a problem for him, simply approaching it as he had done before. With logic. He wanted to live because mysteries were interesting.

Tsuna puts out his own will, quenching all desire to live. Timoteo’s orange flames died out after a minute. Flames couldn’t subsist without material to burn, after all.

He opens his eyes to see orange fire burning in his palms. 

“Hmm.” Says Reborn, blank faced.

He rotates his hand, watching the flame flicker around his Palme. He shakes the feeling, effectively putting the flame out.

“So, who did you text?” Reborn queries. 

 

\----

 

Officer Sasagawa rubs the bridge of his nose. The Graffiti culprit was EXTREMELY starting to get on his nerves, he had half-hoped that Tsunayoshi would come in today with the answer.

*PING*

He looks down, he had gotten a text! And it was from Tsunayoshi. Sometimes he wondered if that boy had anybody else on his contact list.

He gingerly scoots his chair away from his desk (and paperwork!), punching in the password.

It was a picture of a teenager crouched in a bush, spiked black hair, blue undershirt, a stick strapped to his back. Okay…

There was some text after the picture, 

NoJoke: ‘This is the boy bothering your daughter at school.’

 

Oh, he was EXTREMELY prepared to deal with this criminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we found Mochida!


	4. Intuition

Un-sealing the flames without more knowledge was perhaps unwise.

That morning, Tsuna woke up with the strangest forewarning in his brain to stay away from middle-school. The connection of ‘hyper intuition’ and these ‘dying will’ flames making itself known to him. His mind taking in ‘stay away from school’ as a deductive fact was interesting.

“Tsuna, time for school.” The toddler appears, coming into his room with his chameleon at 8:00; thirty minutes before the middle-school school day starts.

Tsuna regard him with a glance, eyeing the chameleon despite himself. The hitman looked small, but in actual age estimation: should be regarded somewhere well within his professional life. Then again, age seemed to have little importance in the face of knowledge concerning his own situation.

Yet, against his own intuition, he finds himself intrigued by his brains own reaction to the flames. How did it know this? What signs did it pick up on? If this is a documented accuracy, this is little away from being able to tell the future. 

This messes with space and time and almost goes against all the laws of physics he had been relying upon as fact. 

Or perhaps it simply allows him the same affordance as his mother and her ‘Woman’s intuition’. 

Either way, he finds himself going against the feeling. Perhaps purposefully, sliding on his jacket and wondering: what could it be? It is a rather ominous feeling, held within the part of his brain that screams ‘DANGER!’ when he walks into a trap. 

He prepares himself, placing his phone on his person, and his baton neatly folded in his coat pocket. 

“Hmm.” Is all Reborn says, face carefully blank.

“I suppose you’re behind all this?” Tsuna says, it’s been a while since he’s walked into a situation blind. The last time had the signs of a puppet master pulling the strings around him, and he recognizes the expression of his foe on the face of a child.

“You’re going to be late to school, Tsuna.” The hitman responds cutely.  
.  
.  
“Have a nice day, Tsuna” 

“Ittekimasu, Kaa-san.”

He picks up the morning paper lying forgotten on the porch, his mind pondering a greater mystery then what has been printed on the pages of its surface.  
\---

School has its own brand of troubles. 

“Ah! Sawada-san.” Kyoko walks up to him, approaching him at the front gate when he walks in.

He stifles the urge to back away, instead shifting his attention to her like a polite gentleman should. 

“We were never formally introduced, hi! I am Sasagawa Kyoko, my dad talked about you.” 

“Sawada Tsunayoshi, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He can see Kyoko stifle a laugh, the corners of her lips crinkling as she holds it in. Her father had much the same reaction, albeit more… extreme. They have another child, an elder brother whom is in the boxing club, and judging by what he has heard around campus: the girl’s reaction is the tamest the Sasagawas can produce.

“Hey, what did you think you’re doing: approaching Kyoko like that yesterday?” Another female voice snaps. Hana Kurokawa stepping from behind a corning to stare him down.

He backs away.

“Apologies, I assure you that will not happen again.” 

“Hmm, it better no.” She says, eyeing him. The ‘or else’ was suitably implied in her words. 

He nods stiffly, “Of course, ma’am.”

They walk in silence to the classroom, Kyoko splitting up from them to go to classroom 2-A while both he and Hana go to 2-B. The silence last about as long as it takes for them to walk into the classroom. Nary has a minute passed after sitting down, the class begins to chatter amongst themselves.

“Oy, he actually showed up on time? Is something going down…?”

“I hear he confessed to his crush and now is becoming a better student to impress her.”

“Nezu is just going to use this an excuse to make us do collage level math again…”

“Well… he showed up early, then maybe he’ll leave early too? Before math!”

“I hope so.”

“Isn’t he part of the displinary club?”

“That’s the only explanation of why he isn’t expelled yet.”

“Quiet down class!” 

The teacher arrives, being a closure to the chatter. He eyes Tsuna warily, tossing him a glance over the ground before he begins the lesson. Hesitant, he isn’t sure why Tsuna is here, or if he will stay.

“We have a new transfer student, from Italy” he begins.

That is all the knowledge that Tsuna needs, his intuition spiking like a heart monitor. 

So, another hitman? Perhaps another mafia child? 

He doesn’t need another tutor. Reborn, spite appearances, seemed to take some sort of pride from being a teacher. The child decided to go easy on him for the rest of the day that he had unsealed himself. He had very quickly learned that the child’s version of easy was making him do the workout regimen of a professional athlete. 

He had yet to learn what the child’s version of normal training was. A tinge of melancholy for the child who grew up in such an environment. 

The door is roughly shoved open, a teen with neck-long silver hair walking in stiffly and awkwardly. Trying to be intimidating, but clearly unused to being in a school environment. Hostile.

“Hayato Gokudera.” He scowls. 

The teacher writes him off as a delinquent, sending him to the open seat in the back past Tsuna. 

The girls in the class make several high-pitched sounds.

Hayato’s eyes scan the room, catching slightly as it passed every exit. Then it stopped on Tsuna, recognition in his eyes, and an obvious disliking of the very ground he stood on.

Rookie professional, used to the need to run: but not over the initial paranoia that allows them to walk with true confidence. He is uncomfortable in a school setting, slight catches in his steps and he makes his way through the classroom. Perhaps subject is used to being bullied? Slight burns on his hands that are seen when he takes them out of his pockets along with wrappings poorly but effectively wound around his wrist.

He is nearly five feet away from Tsuna still glaring. 

He smells of… charred. No gunpowder residue, and the smell of fire was smoke. This was: dynamite. This was a hitman that worked with explosives. No subtlety then, and the rarity of such a kill would no doubt leave a signature. He was out to make a name for himself, the burns on his hands explaining rookie. Which could also mean desperate. 

Killing the newfound heir of the Italian mafia would certainly work with his intuition. 

Collateral damage would be foolish of him, so he can’t attack now in a room full of middle-school students. 

The boy reaches Tsunayoshi desk, pausing to glare down at him. Tsuna orange eyes meet Hayato’s green ones, regarding him levelly. Rookies want to be acknowledged. 

Hayato grunts, tossing his head to the side before walking down the rest of the isle.

 

The rest of the class period continues on in the same manner, Hayato glancing every so often in his direction to throw a glare. The other student, for the most part, considered the hitman to be an acting the part of a ‘bad boy’. Provoking him good-naturedly a few times to test his response. 

“You need to crease the top, you’re 12 degrees off.” The boy finally snaps, snatching a paper airplane off the ground where it lands at his feet.

“Yeah… right.” 

“Like you can tell.”

The boy takes the paper airplane, straightening it and then giving it a new crease. He tosses it, letting it fly through the air effortlessly in a practiced motion.

His fingers working separately, muscle memory letting them act individually. Musician.

His obvious distaste for Tsuna meant he wasn’t working for Timoteo, but his over-emotional hatred meant he took this personally.

He would either attack him sometime today, or outright challenge him to a duel.  
\---

 

“Tsuna.” 

Tsuna looks behind the fire-extinguisher he had removed from the wall, finding the scene of a small child in a suit drinking a mug of coffee. It appears the hole in the wall had been repurposed as a miniature break-room.

He frowns, Reborn had snuck in or course, but how did he know he would be taking the fire-extinguisher? 

No, He had been following Tsuna and then dropped down after he saw where he was going. Then it was a simple matter creatively using Reborn’s skills to decorate. The question was what did he want to talk about? 

“Hello Reborn-sensei.”

“What do you think of Gokudera?” 

“He’s a rookie.”

“Ho?”

Reborn looks somehow smug, that grin on his face that hasn’t left since the beginning of this interaction. Obviously the boy has something planned. His intentions should be for the betterment of Tsuna, his contract was first as a tutor and second to the mafia. 

“He has shown signs of a grudge, most likely based on my newfound birthright. Hostile, but smart enough to avoid unneeded casualties. Unfortunately, not enough to avoid all attention. Rogue, not hired by an enemy Famiglia.”

Tsuna leaves out the part where he theorizes he had been brought by Reborn.

“Ho? Does he have any allies?” 

“No, so far he has remained too uncomfortable to have any form of immediate backup.”

Meaning they might be able to take him out without any backlash. Texting the police once he had gathered enough evidence would put him away. Of course, it was unlikely he took jobs from anyone that wouldn’t cover their tracks. He was intelligent in some regard. Shame he was working for organized crime. 

Of course, none of that excused him from having unsanctioned weapons on school property. 

“Hmm.” Reborn says, taking a sip from his coffee.

Tsuna nods, slipping in the small fire extinguisher into his coat pocket before returning to classes. 

The extinguisher would do to put out the wicks, if applied correctly would be able to nullify the threat of explosives. It would be wise to stay conscious of civilian casualties as well as perhaps keep a tight lid on the mafia talk before he had proof. He was, after all, only still a minor.

He would, eventually, contact the police force. However, a closer law force happened to be nearby. 

He grinned, sharply, it was a wonderful thing to come to school today.

 

=== BONUS ===  
CBC Sherlock with hyper intuition:

Tsuna wakes up with the most irritable feeling in the back of his head, it feels like he was poking a stick back onto the Moriarty affair all over again. Wait, that was enjoyable. Like he was forced to live with Mycroft as children. 

It scream danger at him, like when a rookie police officer tried to impress how important something is. Yes, a person died, not get on with it! Of course, he hadn’t had a murder case in thirteen years. No, he did not count the sheep.

‘Don’t go to school today.’ It whispers. 

He huffs, well obviously he should go to school today: if there was anything interesting happening he needed to know what.  
.  
He arrives at school, and he knows there’s something off the moment the new child walks into the classroom. Now, who was he and why was he important? He prepares his mental power to strike, but falters when he hear the voice again. 

‘Hayato Gokudera, Italian hitman. Jealous of your birthright and here to prove himself by defeating you. Here to make sure you’re a good mafia boss. Bastard, Father had an affair with a piano musician. Dead. He was traumatized from both the piano and his sister when she fed him poison before every recital.” It says, speaking plainly.

Tsuna twitches, what exactly was this? Flames perhaps... they-

‘Increased hyper intuition feeding off your own intelligence. Released when you unsealed yourself. Has a power to have small glimpses of the future without you understanding the reasoning. Has 100% accuracy.”

The Hayato kid approaches him, and he is almost caught off guard with the new addition to his mind but manages a black face before the child could kick his desk. Rude.

Fine, so now he knows everything about the child. But how to go about getting rid of hi-

‘You will want to have him join you. His above average intelligence makes him a better candidate than anyone else Reborn can throw at you. After school he will challenge you to meet him at the back of the school. Bring a-‘

Tsuna stand up, suddenly. 

“Excuse me, I need to sort something out.” He grind out, his teeth locked together.  
.  
He removes himself from class, walking down the street in town instead. Going to school today might actually prove an annoyance if this voice continues to waste his efforts.

He breathe out, this new development can be sorted out. 

He picks up a newspaper from a stand, brightening as he sees a new murder on the back article. A woman died in her home, supposedly a locked room murder. Now… what’s this about a fingerprint being found-?

‘It was the husband’ the voice says. ‘He killed her by-‘

Tsuna slams the paper down, fire burning in his eyes.  
.

Timoteo sits down in his office, once again tired after a long chat with his guardians. He hoped that bringing in a direct bloodline from the founder would alleviate some tensions and set this Famiglia back to its original course. 

Tsuna had seemed so bright when he first met him. 

Despire Reborn’s warnings about the child, he had full confidence that Reborn could shape the child to be a model Boss. Somehow, he felt like he could hear the boy’s voice right now… strange, it seemed to be yelling?

“TIMOTEO!!” Someone shouts from outside his room. He startles, shoving aside his tea and picking up his cane. An invasion? 

Tsuna slams open the door. Fire it burning from his head in a bright orange flame, the tips leaning toward… Storm flames. 

“Seal me NOW.” Tsuna spits.

“w-What?” 

“Take these infernal flames and trap my self-esteem again, main me while you’re at it. I DON’T CARE, I want them GONE.” 

The boy is enrages, obviously gone mad and perhaps a bit off the deep end.

“Tsuna, you will need your flames as a boss.” He coaxes, then pauses, “How did you get-?”

“BOSS!” Coyote says, running into the room. “Are you alright? An intruder got pass-!”

Tsuna shoots blindly at Coyote’s leg, still staring down at Nono. Somewhere, further back in the base: an explosion is heard going off.

 

“…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist adding a bit with BBC sherlock. For some reason i find joy in sticking him with the most annoying hyper intuition i could think of for a sherlock: one that scream spoilers into his brain.


	5. Time wool tell (and puns will die)

Reborn watches, his hand idly petting Leon. 

‘Smoking Gun’ Hayato was perhaps loud, explosive, and utterly inferior according to ranking: but he was also a prime candidate to Tsuna. Flames those strong were a direct descendant of ‘G’ Vongola primo’s right hand man. 

Also, Reborn used to date his sister.

But a remaining fact was that Hayato was walking a tight line. Tsuna was a stronger advocate to the law then might have been anticipated. Any injury to bystanders as a result of Hayato’s bombs would result in an estranged relationship as best.

This was all, of course, assuming that the Tsuna would actually accept the boy as his guardian. 

It was hard to get a reading on the straight-faced teenager. Tsunayoshi seemed to have close ties to his mother, and perhaps an officer from the local police station. Both of those options, however, were unadvisable to question.

Reborn intends to study the interaction between Tsuna and his new candidate, keeping a close eye to make sure it was going smoothly.

\---

Two weeks ago, Gokudera Hayato had received a letter:

 

To whom it may concern: Go to Namimori japan. The Vongola heir will be attending the middle school there. If you can defeat him, you will inherit his position. 

-Reborn

 

Considering it was tucking into his shirt pocket when he was asleep, naturally it concerned him. 

He scowls, shoving the note back into his pocket. 

‘Tsunayoshi Sawada’ Looks like a blank faced wall. Something that looked like a trained poker face slightly off-putting in what would be an otherwise soft featured face. 

The boy was a rookie. Not even a rookies: a civilian. So why did he look like he had any kind of authority? Misplaced ego? It makes him sick and he hates it. Just given the position on a silver platter.

He had done NOTHING. Nothing to prove himself while Gokudera had gone through grunt work and job after job to even earn himself a title. It’s not fair, But anything rarely is.

It’s frustrating, he can’t figure it out. He just wants to punch the smug-faced kid in the face.

 

The alarm for lunch break sounds. He stands up, shoving away the desk in front of him. 

He might be able to confront the boy now, corner him at wherever he ate lunch. From his recon, he was able to gather that the boy was socially dead: and therefor would be eating lunch alone.

The boy looks at him from the corner of his eye, watching Hayato carefully. 

Tsuna stand up, moving toward the door. He’s bringing his bag with him.

Was he leaving? Hayato narrowed his eyes. It was too late for that.

Once the boy leaves the classroom, Hayato follows. Keeping at a distance until he’s sure he can corner him. It would be no use if the boy decided to go for help. But honestly, where would he go?

Hayato mentally scoffs at his own preparation, but continues non-the less.

He stalks behind a corner, waiting until he can hear the audible ‘click’ of the door. The roof?

The roof was empty, not a popular place for students to eat their lunch. What’s more: It had not escape routes save jumping off or the door. He lets himself have a mental victory. The boy had signed his own defeat.

In a one verses one, Hayato was the favorable winner in almost all regards.

He slips through the door, letting it bang shut. 

\---

Tsuna steps up the final flight of stairs, opening the door to the roof and stepping out into the sun.

“Smart-Herbivore.” 

“Hibari.” 

He walks forward, letting the door fall shut with the chains of gravity.

CLACK

Hibari looks on with a straight face. Only a slight twitch in his upper brow communicating his curiosity. 

Tsuna stays in place, quietly waiting until he hears the clack of the bottom set of doors to the stairs.

He sets his bag down, digging through it quickly until he gets the fire extinguisher free. He pulls the pin out. Then holds it up, pointing it toward the door. 

There’s a moment of silence.

*BANG* the door swings open, revealing the new transfer student.

Tsuna presses down on the lever. 

“WHA-PFFT-URK…” 

Tsuna rushes forward, keeping the element of surprise and kicking the door closed. 

Hayato spins, turning toward him and jumping back. He grabs something from his innermost pocket.

The dynamite’s flame dies before it can be lit.

Hayato scowls, sizing up Tsuna hand to hand combat.

“Herbivore.” 

“Hibari-san, Hayato is guilty of bringing unsanctioned weapons to school.”

“…”

“And disturbing the peace.”

“I’ll bite you to death, herbivore.”

Hibari lunges at Hayato, shoving a tonfa at his gut with a second one aimed at his head. 

Hayato choses to protect his head, a knee coming up to protect his stomach. 

However, this leaves him unbalanced. Hibari follows up with a kick to the leg. 

Hayato falls down, rolling to the side before Hibari can land a stab.

Tsuna watches on idly, confident in the results. Hayato may be a trained hitman, but Hibari had very dedicated training. Training being defined by terrorizing the student-body into following rules. 

Hayato manages to land a punch on the other boy. 

The punch is quickly overshadowed by another dozen attacks from Hibari.

After a few more moments of resistance, Hayato has been subdued. 

Hibari looks up from his victim, making an imposing figure standing above a bruised and broken-nosed Hayato. He turns toward Tsuna, staring him down.

“Smart-Herbivore, you have paperwork.” 

“Of course, Hibari.” 

 

\---

 

Reborn watches, sitting in one of the air vents twisted through the roof.

He considers silently. The Hibari boy would make a fine first candidate, they may have bonded already. But the dynamic between the two wouldn’t do at all for a mafia boss. Tsuna treats him like an associate at best and a boss at worst.

Seeing the signs of mutual attraction that signaled flames was nearly impossible seeing as both were blank faced walls. And neither seemed to challenge the other.

He wondered briefly if he extended the same offer to Hibari as he did Gokudera, but shook away the thought.

Hayato, in this instance… may be a loss cause. Neither technically won. Tsuna walks away thinking of Hayato as a low level criminal, and Hayato walks away thinking Tsuna is an unhonorable coward. 

Getting a guardian for Tsuna at this point is time was nearly impossible unless perhaps they forced themselves at him.

Leon makes a clicking sound, picking up on his distress.

“Reborn-Sensei.”

Reborn steps out from the vent, perching himself on top of it instead.

“Tsuna.” 

“You’re upset.” Tsuna notes, his eyes trained on the toddler. Reborn internally grins at his own face control.

“Hmm, you see Tsuna: Iemitsu is very concerned by your lack of friends. The only contact in your phone is your mother, and a police officer.” Reborn says, holding up the phone that he had pick-pocketed from Tsuna’s locker during PE. It showed exactly two contacts on his list.

“I memorized the rest.”

Reborn continues, “Mama agrees that you need more friends your own age.” 

Tsuna seems to consider this. Such a mama’s boy.

\---

Hayato grinds his teeth, carried like so many sacks of potatoes and then tossed into the police station. Was this worst then when he was accused for murdering a sheep?

He burns under the perceived insult. The boy didn’t even face him himself! Hiding behind the monster like a sniveling coward. How can a person like that become a mafia boss? Ha! And he was just HANDED the position.

“Okay, my name is Officer Ito, I’m going to ask you some questions.” An officer says, taking out a notepad.

Hayato doesn’t respond, holding in a growl. His sneer plainly writing his distaste for the situation.

“Right… Right to silence and all that.” Officer Ito says, scribbling down something onto the notepad. “Did you or did you not carry Dynamite into a public area?”

“Hm.” 

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“…” They thought he was a suicide bomber!? 

“Right, you’re still a minor, I’ll call up child protective services. I will be right back, sit tight.” Officer Ito says, standing up and leaving the room.

Hayato grunts.

As soon as the officer is gone, he twists his hand out of the handcuffs, dislocating his thumb. It wasn’t as much as they were trained for in mafia school because of the obvious difference between an adult and a child handcuffs.

He steps out of the room, slipping on a spare coat from a rack. 

Hayato creeps toward the front of the police station, wondering if the reception officer had changed shifts yet.

“And you’re sure he isn’t responsible for the shee-“

He mentally growls.

“It is physically impossible” A younger voice says.

“Right… okay, then I’ll take your explanation and clear it with the chief.”

“Thank you, Officer Sasagawa.” 

There’s the sound of the front door closing, a few moments later, the receptionist gets up and walks toward the back. Hayato ducks into a coat closet, waiting for the officer to pass.

Once the footsteps retreat, he slips out of the building.

Tsuna-coward-Sawada had just cleared his name with the police. Why? And for that matter, HOW?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hayato is hard to write. When i was thinking about his role in the story i realised that basically his entire personality has been based around Tsuna. o.o
> 
> And now that Tsuna isn't even close to being like cannon Tsuna well... I have plans.


	6. I want to know if there’s baseball in heaven

Tsunayoshi stared down the morning paper, advertisements, and extra comic strips coated over the place that would be reserved for Crime reports had there been any. It was strange, and in no little ways suspicious how the paper of Namimori’s crime was always so low. There was mafia in this town, perhaps territory issues?

He tosses the paper aside, letting it fall into the waste basket before picking up a newspaper from the neighboring district. He had to pay extra for the delivery service, but it was more than worth it.

“Tsuna.” 

Reborn jumps on the desk, standing on a stray stock market rating.

Tsuna resists the flair of irritation. He was not fond of being interrupted from his musings. A character trait his mother had been working to quell. 

“Reborn-sensei, how may I help you?” 

It was what others might consider a ‘customer service voice’. Or, more accurately, a gentleman’s honour. 

The toddler living with them had called for some change in arrangements, the weekend a curiosity they had yet to explore. His lack of companions for most of the day was worrisome, and his hobbies seemed to include: stalking, subterfuge, and his pet Leon (guns).

They were both worried how the boy was raised. Kaa-san had thought about enrolling him in the elementary-school nearby, but Reborn had insisted that his education was already above passing marks and he needed to attend to his job.

If only the same excuse worked for Tsuna.

“What did you do to Hayato?” 

Reborn asks, staring up at him. Most of the questions that are asked from the small child were asked with Leon staring at him. (If he was really being honest, he was still apprehensive about the chameleon.)

“I asked Hibari to bring him to the police station.” 

“And after that?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen him since.” 

“Hmm.” 

Reborn looks away, his face remaining neutral though his mind was clearly working through a mystery. 

Tsuna let it continue for another minute. The child was developing new skills in the art of deduction that he would help educate. His mother had given him the responsivity to help Reborn this way, while her own role was that of mental support. 

“What has he done?”

Reborn turns to look at him, considering. 

“Hayato’s not as hostile. From yesterday: he should want to kill you by now.”

Tsuna pauses, reaching out for his mug of coffee and taking a sip. 

No crimes committed in Namimori, yet so many criminals seemed to accumulate. There was no use in theories without solid fact, but he might have been tempted to let him mind wander of the things of secret society paranoia.

“I dropped by the Police station yesterday, he might have overheard me talking to Officer Sasagawa.” 

“Ho?”

Tsuna took another sip of his coffee, not responding. There was no point of mystery if you were simply handed the answers before you could figure it out. Deduction was an art.

Already the cogs in the small child’s brain were turning, a calculating shadow passing over his eyes. He had already been trained in one way or another by his profession. All that was left was to make the connections.

“He was the one blamed for the sheep murder.”

“Indeed.”

“Hmm, what were you doing at the police station?”

“Picking up a bulletproof vest.”

He knocks his chest, a bulletproof vest had been secured under his shirt. Not strong enough to truly negate the effects of bullets, no matter how rubber they may be, but enough to minimize the bruises.

The Police station had allowed it to be bought from their supply for the reasoning of his service and the likelihood someone wanted to shoot him. 

\---

Reborn watches Tsuna silently, the boy totally and completely absorbed in the latest crime report. The boy took him seriously, but was still under the impression that he was a child… and treated him as such.

Not a children person if that was how he expected children to be able to think.

Still, deduction was an interesting skill. It would be more then helpful later in almost any situation. He himself had accumulated the knowledge to read situations and people, but he would let Tsuna continue his thinking.

“Reborn-sensei, how much do you know about the other heirs?” 

“Ho?”

Reborn takes in the knowledge quickly, leverage. The boy wanted knowledge, and Reborn could tie that knowledge to a stick and have him chase it.

Considering the failed attempt so far, one could say he was curious:

“If Tsuna can make one friend, I’ll tell you about their deaths.”

What did the child look like when he ATTEMPTED to make friends? 

“I see,” Tsuna says, placing the paper down to his desk, it was then that Reborn knew he had the boy hooked. 

“Tsuna-kun, breakfast is ready!” 

Mama calls from down the hall, the smell of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen. Tsuna had an in-born preference for British meals according to Mama.

Of course, morning routine soon took over.

Tsuna watches him from the corner of his eyes, warily standing up from his chair and tugging on his school jacket. Reborn may have made a habit of ‘encouraging’ him in the morning since he had to forgo the traditional deliberators. 

Reborn smiles cutely back in response, better to wait a bit to make him paranoid. A good boss was always prepared to deal with threats.

\---

Nana Sawada watches her son fondly as he carefully walks down their small stairway. His eyes scanning and identifying all cover and threats. Reborn seemed to have fun teasing him.

She always wanted more children, Tsuna was so dreadfully lonely. 

“Ah, you’re so lively this morning. Anything interesting happen?” 

“Good morning, Mama.”

“Good morning, Kaa-san.” 

He calms down once he sees her, his walking becoming more relaxed as he steps toward the table and sits down. Reborn takes a seat on the hi-chair across from him. So cute, she would have to ask about officially adopting the toddler.

“Perhaps, depending on how I fare at school today.” Tsuna confesses.

Ah, yes, Reborn had said that her Tsuna needed to make more friends. Perhaps she could set up a playdate with Officer Sasagawa, he had children the same age as Tsuna, right?

Reborn was already filling into the position of younger brother, nagging his elder brother about his mental health.

She beams, clasping her hands together and basking in the thought. 

“Mother…?”

\---

Tsuna arrives at school earlier then he would normally, standing next to the gate instead of going into the building. He garnered several strange stares at him from the students who were passing by. The early-bird students were glancing at him like they expected him to leave soon. It seemed, in fact, that his presence made several of the student body very nervous.

Reborn himself was standing discreetly on of the school walls, looking down at the teenagers like he was judging the quality of cattle. 

“What’s he doing so early…? You don’t think.” 

One of the students asks, trying to discreetly question another student. They counted on the crowd to cover their gossiping, but Reborn could detect their conversation with his trained ears.

“Nahh… He would have brought the police.” 

Ho? Something to investigate at a later date. 

He seemed to be waiting for someone, perhaps the two girls from yesterday. Reborn wouldn’t count those for the reason of they were already mutual friends, as one sided as it was. 

\---

Tsuna scans the crowd, looking out for potential candidates for companionship. ‘Friends’ entailed mutual respect, not necessarily great interest in one another: but an understanding of mutual familiarity. 

To approach another for friendship would be made easier with two things: the first of which being the lack of flocking in a friends group already. To court a single person instead of trying to please a crowd. 

The second: Having something in common would be preferable, but much harder to find. 

A crude way to find a compatible companion, but to avoid any confusion: it would be best to find someone of whom he had no previous interaction with.

His eyes brush across another group of children, the sports enthusiasts. 

Mochida, the boy who was bothering Kyoko: now sporting some bruises from what looked like a boxing style punch. Yuki Akemi, the manager of the baseball team, female. Takeshi Yamamoto, Baseball star, friended with half the school and…

Interesting: suffering from a broken arm and depression. 

The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes, he keeps glancing down at his arm discreetly. His cadence was matching the baseball manager: He was purposefully following her despite being banned from morning practice.

He had a few bandages on the inside of his arm. Perhaps from working at his family restaurant (his mother’s favorite), TakeSushi, but the angle would suggest something else. 

Tsuna watches them enter the building before stepping out from behind the wall of the school gate. He walks into the building after them, keeping a distance before slipping into the disciplinary committee office. 

He had paperwork to worry about.

\---

Reborn appears while Tsuna if filling out what looks to be an application to be a police intern. The name written on the top was ‘Komi Laurel’ a female student.

“Ho?”

“She requests a reference.” 

Tsuna says without looking up, writing down a side-note on the page as a miniature evaluation of the student. Reborn is sure he’s never seen the two interact. Looking at the form closer: she from a different district as well.

There is a pile of paper on one side of Tsuna, the completed pile. On the left side is the papers that have yet to be reviewed. That is… a lot of paper for a two day absence.

“Hmm, you’re still missing class.”

Reborn points out, planning out his lesson already. He won’t ask the boy to leave the pile of paperwork and take away Hibari’s revenge. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t add to it.

“Graph: X squared plus five X plus six.” 

Tsuna almost dares to raise an eyebrow, looking at him strangely. This idea is quickly removed from him as he glances up the barrel of Leon. He instead aborts the gesture to grab a piece of scrap paper and begin to draw a graph.

Nothing like the nostalgic feeling of a student doing homework at gunpoint.

Reborn had seen Tsuna’s interest in Takeshi Yamamoto, the star baseball player and also the wielder of potentially strong rain flames. His father might be a point of contention seeing as strong flames seemed to be hereditary, but worth risking for a guardian.

Tsuna, however, didn’t know that: and remained blissfully unaware of how his flames drew others. 

Reborn smiles behind his poker face, this plan was going well so far.

Tsuna finishes the graph, placing it in front of Reborn to review, before looking back to the next form to fill out: This one a brief not that looked more in line with conspiracy theories then anything school related. 

Reborn looked closer, the handwriting looked familiar. Strange, it had the creases of a paper airplane.

Tsuna jots down a reply, disproving the theory of aliens by listing a farmer’s means, motive, and opportunity for such a thing. Pointing out that the cut had come from one side and not, in face, from above.

He continues switching between paperwork and homework problems for another hour before his stack is empty. 

He stands up, stretching his legs before stiffly walking toward the door. 

“Have a nice day, Mr. Sawada.” 

“You as well, Cheryl.” Tsuna nods, 

He passes her a form across the desk. 

She looks at in somewhat surprise, before taking it and looking at and reviewing it: An application to join the disciplinary committee.

Tsuna walks out the door.  
\---

“You give up?”

Reborn says, jumping down from the walls on the road to land onto Tsuna’s head. 

“I wasn’t aware there was a time limit.”

Tsuna muses.

Reborn frowns, Tsuna had yet to approach another student. Cheryl relationship with him was strictly business. 

There were certainly candidates, however Tsuna seemed to have different thought preoccupying his mind. If only there was a way to get him to be more open about his thoughts and chase down his regrets like a dying man~ and it was his responsibility, after all, to guide his student to…

Reborn points the barrel of his gun down at Tsuna head. 

*BANG*

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Takeshi was the star baseball player at Namimori middle-school, but he probably wouldn’t remain that way for long. His pitch record had finally hit a wall. It was his broken arm that only solidified it. What else was he good at?

And why would it even matter. Baseball was the only thing he cares about anyway. 

“Takeshi-kun! We’re meeting up at the mall later today.” 

Yuki chats excitedly beside him, in front of him: leading him back in the baseball field. It was his fault, maybe if he just had worked harder…? No that was what brought him into this mess: when he had tried to solve it.

Ha, Baseball was really the only thing he was good at so of course he couldn’t expand pass that. But… how was he supposed to get better if he couldn’t improve? He saw the other members of the team working harder and becoming better and yet: he hit a brick wall. Why?

“Ha ha,” He laughs at her enthusiasm, it’s so easy to just fall into the rhythm he had set for himself, “Maybe later.”

But it would never truly be the same, would it.

“Pfft,” someone scoffs next to them. 

Takeshi turns around, noting Mochida’s prescience next to them. He was sporting a rather nasty bruise and glaring at a boy standing next to the school gate.

Tsunayoshi Sawada, the infamous spirit of Namimori Middle. Bright eyes that stare into your soul and pick out its secrets; though he had heard the boy was quite clumsy.

But sometimes, Takeshi could almost look at him and think: This is a fellow who understands (what it’s like to be obsessed). Not he had ever spoken to the boy. Or, in fact, talked to him at all. But how would he know? He only cared about baseball after all.

“Takeshi?”

“O, sorry, I was lost in thought… ha ha.”

“You, you’re only thinking about baseball now: aren’t you? Baseball nut.” 

Yuki sighs fondly,

“You can take you’re recovery time to finally improve you’re grades.” 

Yeah… He wasn’t smart enough.

What a cruel world? Why couldn’t you just chose one thing to be good at? One thing and be done with it? Professions only had to doing one. Blowing glass wasn’t needed to shoot guns. Baking wasn’t needed to stab someone: not that he would ever.

If anything, he can always retreat to his father’s profession.

\---

He can make sushi, he thinks as he stares out the window: he knows he’s capable. Perhaps not like his father is capable to the degree that sometimes Takeshi wonders if he used that knife of his to do other things.

Maybe his grandfather was a woodcarver?

But he doesn’t care about making sushi the same way he likes baseball. Like his mother likes baseball. 

“Takeshi! Answer the question on the board, please.” 

“Hai Sensei! Um… ano… x = three?” He says, 

“Incorrect, x = 5.” Nezu-sensei drawls, glaring down at him.

“Ha, ha, Woops.” 

He says instead. Because he doesn’t care how poorly he performs here: he only cares about Baseball. And maybe it stings to know that it’s truly the only thing he has.

But it’s fine: because he loves baseball.

“Dude,” Whispers the boy two seats over from him, “It wasn’t even Sawada’s fault this time.”

But it’s not fine, because what is he without baseball? 

\---

He can’t hate baseball, it was his own fault. He failed. Maybe… he should just die.

\---

Is there baseball in heaven? He wonders, staring down at his broken arm.

He’s in the boy’s bathroom, excused himself when he could no longer take watching the other baseball team members start after school practice.

He clenches his hand

\---

He’s headed toward the roof, to do what exactly he isn’t quite sure. It had a lovely view, he remembers: right above the soccer field and overlooking the baseball field. 

High enough for a man to jump down and break his neck, he had been warned. 

“Herbivore.” 

Takeshi turns around, startled. Who…. Hibari?

“Ah ha… ha… What seems to be the problem?” 

Hibari grins, (the kind of grin his father says shows too much teeth) Walking closer like he was approaching… he isn’t sure. Perhaps stalking would be a better term for the silent movement.

Takeshi remains still, trapped by social convention and all that. His father told him it was okay to run: but why would he run away from a fellow student? They weren’t playing tag.

“I hear you want to join the disciplinary committee.”

“…Excuse me?” 

“Hn, I will test you, Herbivore.”

“I’m sure that’s really not-“

He dodges to the left, ducking down as Hibari’s form goes flying past him: A pair of tonfas in his hand. That was dangerous, what if someone got hurt? (But it hurts more to stop playing)

Takeshi takes off in a sprint down the hall, Hibari hot on his trail. 

Takeshi grabs the nearest object in reach, a broom in front of the janitor’s closet. He spins around and raises it vertically, somehow sensing the oncoming blow from the metal poles. 

The broom chatters, splintering into pieces that scatter into upward. 

Hibari follows up by ducking low then catching him in an uppercut that sends Takeshi staggering backwards and nursing a bruise on his face. He knows Hibari could have broken his jaw.

Takeshi stands up, pulling a leg back like he had seen his father do when he practices with his sword. He didn’t have a katana, so he raises a shattered piece of the broom. 

“Hn.” 

Hibari launches himself at him, Takeshi stepping to the side at the right moment and shoves the stick between the prefect’s ribs. 

A second later the piece of broom has been shattered, and a metal tonfa is resting bellow his shin: right on top of his adam’s apple.

“Ha, Ano… can I go now?”

“Acceptable.” 

Hibari steps back, tonfa still raised.

“From now on, you are part of the disciplinary committee. Show up late and I will bite you to death.”

Takeshi stumbles backwards, watching the demon of Namimori high stalk away. Perhaps for more recruitments? He had heard from other members of the baseball team, not to mention the school staff, talk about his questionable… everything.

“A… ha?” 

He mutters, daring not to draw anymore attention to himself. What kind of game had he just played? It was… fun. 

Takeshi shakes his head, deeming it best to perhaps avoid the demon. He will go home now, he really doesn’t want to be bitten to death. His father might have some pointers for him.

\---

 

 

He’s walking home, the sky a faint pink as the sun lowers itself into the horizon. There’s a river next to him, running below a bridge horizontal to his trail.

Takeshi blinks, seeing a figure perched next to the river itself. They’re crouched over, hunching over the river as if inspecting it. How much can a person gleam from looking at water? 

(From a drop of water a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of one or the other.)

“Takeshi-san.” 

The figure stands, turning toward him as if sensing his approach.

Takeshi slows, cautions up until the point before he recognizes the boy. Tsunayoshi? He’s surprised the boy knows his name, or rather that he knows his route home.

“Tsunayoshi-san?” 

“Would you care to join me?” 

“… Okay.” 

He’s curious. Some members of his class had referred to the boy as some kind of Alien. The social outcast who captures everyone’s attention. Who wouldn’t be curious? 

He walks down the slope, coming to a stop just short of the other boy. His mind is still processing the fact that he was not recruited for the disciplinary committee: how did one get signed up for such a thing in the first place?

He sits down, basking in amicable silence as Tsuna watches the river. Takeshi can’t help but stare up at the sky instead, its orange color staring to weigh in as if it had been set on fire.

Takeshi doesn’t often ponder life like a philosopher: that is for days that are spent without baseball. But he does have the sneaking suspicion that the other boy messed with his, somehow.

“Don’t run yourself ragged, dear boy.” 

Tsuna speaks up, leaning back to stare at him. The sky is reflected in his eyes, burning orange.

“Bit late for that.” Takeshi smiles, raising his broken arm, “I learned my lesson.”

Tsuna regards him for a moments,

“So you did.” 

He agrees.

“Hey…” Takeshi starts, uncertain how to continue this trail of thought. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“…I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annddd: we got Takeshi.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know how to properly write depression, any inaccuracies are entirely my fault and i apologise in advance. 
> 
> I try to post weekly, (like every Sunday or something) but so far my track record has been every eight days, jussssttt missing the mark every week. o.o
> 
> side note: the main difference between regular Sherlock and BBC Sherlock is i think, the morals. Like, BBC Sherlock might ACTUALLY become a mafia boss if he gets bored enough. (would anyone be interested in seeing more with BBC Sherlock? perhaps as a separate story?)


	7. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moretti shows up early.

Tsuna awakes in the middle of the night, hearing the slight creaking of his window being pried open. His eyes flickering open the moment he heard the tell-tail sound of the window pane scraping against its boundaries. 

He stills himself, taking in everything he can in the dark. 

It’s a man of a certain build, he’s trying to be quiet: yet he doesn’t seem tense. Non-hostile, yet he is still breaking into their house instead of being invited: Mafia, perhaps invited by Reborn. 

Tsuna should consider retaliating.

He turns onto his side, faking the nonchalant rollover so he can have a better view. The man is roughly 35, going by build. Clearly a professional in some field, but not combat specialized if things should go sour.

“Excuse me, sir, but could you please wait until morning?” Tsuna drawls, sitting up and taking the stunned silence as an opportunity to reach for his baton and phone, shifting it discreetly closer 

“Uhhh…” The man states, eloquently. 

Tsuna, at this point, wonders what would happen if he were to wake up Reborn: assuming the child wasn’t up already. He dismisses the thought, the toddler had his room trapped. (And was very stubborn when he wanted to be)

Would it be considered an offence to call the police upon his supposed ‘allies’ in the mafia? 

The very thought might have made him amused. He was many things, but not an ally to the less then shady. His mother could take care of herself, and the only other person he might have to worry about was a world renowned toddler who had been perfectly fine up till now.

He presses he phone on, hitting the speed dial option. It was roughly 4:30, so Officer should be awake by now. 

“Moshi Moshi?”

“Yes, a man broke into my room.”

The man in question makes such an offended gesture of betrayal that makes Tsuna raise an eyebrow.

* * *

Morning in the Sasagawa household went something like this:

Kyoko is comfortably snuggled into her bed. Drifting in and out of consciousness, half-listening to her father’s footsteps in the other room. 

He always got up so early to go to work. Police was a serious job after all, and he liked to warm up before he went to work. Nii-san sometimes got up with him, when he wasn’t put in the recovery phase from boxing practice. Her brother was kind of an adrenaline addict? It worried her. But she knew that one day those skills would keep him alive in the police business.

She wanted to be a police officer when she grew up… or maybe a ballerina? But she never really liked practicing, the same could be said for becoming a police officer. She could ask Oto-san to teach her, but he was always so… EXTREME.

Wasn’t it weird thought? Namimori hardly ever had any kind of conflict or criminal population. Maybe that was why Nii-san was so restless? The threat you need to prepare for is the one you can’t see- kind of thing. 

Oto-san’s steady thump of pushups is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing, presumably his own. 

A few moments of silence.

“Hold on, I’ll be right there to the EXTREME!!!” Her father cries, shocking her awake with the force of his shout.

Something must be really bad if he’s yelling in the house. Kaa-san had given him the whole ‘don’t cry wolf’ talk about yelling in the morning. Already she topples herself out of bed, breaking into a sprint down the hall.

A good police officer might be able to maintain habits… but Kyoko was always really curious about what she couldn’t understand.

“Oto-san?” 

She ticks her head out the door, watching her father’s retreating figure running out into the sunrise. What happened? The last time he ran off, Nii-san had broken his arm somewhere.

“Imouto?” Ryohei-nii-kun’s sleepy voice says, walking up from behind her. 

“Oto-san ran off somewhere…” She says. 

“We can head him off at the police station.”

“Kaa-san?”

Kaa-san walks up from behind both of them, disheveled and with a coffee mug stolen from the kitchen only moments before. Her eyes scream ‘let me die in peace.’ But she is worried too.

She pats Kyoko’s head absently, taking a large gulp from her coffee.

“Get dressed first.” 

“Hai.”

“Hai.”

* * *

Of all the things to happen before the police arrive, this was the most inconvenient.

Tsuna stare distastefully down at the human possum. The man shouldn’t be dead. The time taken to tie the man up after he had broken in wouldn’t have been enough time to do anything without Tsuna seeing.

Yet he had no pulse.

The man had no signs of poison injection, suicide pill… etc. To be extremely precise, one would need to take a blood sample. In a severe case, extracting bone marrow would account for some of the rarer cases. There was the possibility the man had a sudden disease that had finally taken its toll on him.

He had briefly checked for puncture wounds visible on the man, rolling up his sleeves and examining the locations that’s had fast acting bloodstream circulation.

No puncture wounds, no sign of entry no…

Clinically dead? His heart beat no longer responded, but the man had yet to start turning blue from lack of oxidation in the bloodstream. He should text Officer to bring medical with him. Also, unlock the door so it wouldn’t be knocked down.

“Your first kill.”

Tsuna turns around to glare at Reborn. The child doesn’t sound panicked. Of course, he had more dealing with corpses before. But the glare is for the hint of amusement that seems to be playing through the toddler’s face.

“So what are you going to do?”

Ah, the child wanted to see how he would reacted to having murdered. The loss of life was no small matter, regardless of how many times he had witnessed to a corpse. 

“Keep the body untouched until the police arrive with medical.”

He raises his phone, snapping a picture of the supposed corpse. He enters group chat and sends out a text:

NoJoke: ‘Intruder clinically unresponsive, bring medical.’

Nojoke: (picture)

The majority of the group chat members are still asleep, as he would have been without the disturbance, but a few early risers (or Joe with the graveyard shift) should be awake.

BANG.

A loud sound comes from downstairs. He has a few suspicions of what it is from: it has the property of wood for one thing. And really only one thing would make that sound as it was torn away from the doorframe.

Officer3xtr33m: I will EXTREMELY pay for that later.

Joethedonut: Wait, what’s happening?

.

* * *

.

Nana Sawada rubs her eyes, awoken after a loud banging sound had interrupted her sleep. Did Tsuna invite someone over? He would usually tell her ahead of time. Ah, yes, Reborn said he would be bringing a surprise friend over and not to worry.

How sweet, Reborn taking care of his nii-san. 

She should make some coffee… The boys of the household really seemed to indulge in it. Though she should be concerned for Reborn’s health. Someday he would grow into a tall gentleman, she could tell, but coffee might deter his growth.

Well, there was always decaf. Though Tsuna dislikes it, he was reasonable enough to see the logic.

\---

After getting dressed, she heads toward the kitchen. This is where she sees the police.

“Oh… Good morning Officer, what brings you here?” In full uniform.

She loved Tsuna, really she did. But it’s a natural response to be a little bit fearful when the authorities show up at your door. Or, in your living room. She wondered how Reborn would take it, being a hitman and all.

“Ma’am, we’re here to investigate a break-in. Along with the clinical death of the intruder.” The officer says, he’s wearing rubber gloves: forensics.

A man with a lab coat is arguing with a man wearing rubber gloves, Medical and forensics. The big white letters of ‘NAMIMORI POLICE DEP’ blazoned on the back of their jackets.

“Oh how exciting,” She says instead. “Do you know where Tsuna is?”

“Tsunayoshi Sawada has been taken to the police department for questioning.” The man says, a name was printed on his shirt of ‘Smith’. An English name, perhaps Tsuna got his fascination for the culture from him. (He spent enough time at the police department to do so.)

“He has asked me to give you this:”

Officer Smith reaches into his pocket and pulls out a note. 

‘Dear Kaa-san, 

Please forgive the excitement this morning, I’m afraid I might be missing up until dinner time. If all else fails, Bail money is stored in the cabinet underneath the dried noodles. You can call Officer Sasagawa, he is with me at the moment. Do no fear Officer Smith: he faces social anxiety from talking to parents. The Police like donuts. I would greatly encourage you to go shopping while our house in under investigation.’

She sighs, placing the note in her purse.

“Thank you, Officer Smith, good luck in your investigation.”

“Will do, Mrs. Sawada.”

She leaves the house to go shopping, wondering how her sweet introverted Tsuna always seemed to get caught up in these things. It started with his father’s absence, and it really was a good thing he found so many professionals to look up to… but she felt a lot safer when all he did was read newspapers and call in tips.

Maybe she made him grow up too quickly?

* * *

Tsuna was seated in the office of the police dept. explaining in great detail the occurrence of that morning’s debacle, Officer Ito was taking notes: writing down the testimony and comparing notes to a child trauma sheet next to him.

“And then he was dead when you turned around?”

“Yes, Officer Ito.” 

It was the third time this question came up, but rather in a different way of saying it: a way of grilling information when you really only had one person to compare testimony to. A lie detector was hooked around his wrists, monitoring the sweat his hands produced. Truly a fascinating machine. 

He would be remiss in not noting his own excitement at using the machine. In some ways, it seemed that being a teenage boy still rubbed off on him. It explained the reasoning for how deeply attached he was still was to British culture, clinging to something of familiarity even after his new situation.

Modern technology was now wider spread and more aptly used then back in his own day.

“Hmm, well: you’re still a minor. We’ll need to call in your parents or-“

“No need, Officer Ito. Kaa-san has signed the required forms for Mr. Sasagawa to represent me as a minor up until the point of needing to go to court.”

“You can do that?”

Officer Ito looks up, wondering in bewilderment. 

“He’s representing me as Mr. Sasagawa, not as an officer of the law.” 

“Huh, convenient.”

“Indeed.”

Officer Ito was mostly the one to deal with child criminals, mainly based on his soft features and lost bet. He was the one, who dealt with Hayato when he was taken in three days ago before the boy escaped.

His partner, Mr. Smith, should be at his mother’s house now: handing her Tsuna’s note to express his absence:

In the best case scenario, she would disregard the situation as ‘being lively’. In a worst case: she would swap out his coffee for decaf.

“Okay, questioning’s all done, unless we suddenly get more evidence: in which case we’ll be doing this all over again…”

Officer Ito unsticks the Lie detector from his wrists, allowing to stand up and move about. As someone who was more familiar with the proceedings of office work, he was mostly left alone to do as he pleased: albeit with a firm eye watching his movements.

Tsuna escorted himself across the hall, staring through the window of the forensics department. 

The body was stretched out on a table, a few scientist were mixing together samples of blood next to the desk. The remains of residue fingerprint powder were on the man’s wrist and arms. 

The man, Moretti L'omicidio: 

Male 

Age: thirty three, 

Blood type: B, 

Height: 180 cm (5’11)

Weight: 72 kg (158 lbs)

Getting his healthcare history had been a trial of patience. Patient confidentiality coming to play and then swept aside as an official investigation. Language barriers as well as the fact of his being murdered in another country.

Once into his medical history, there were a few strange medical fluctuations in his youth before his visits stopped entirely. The most prominent of theses was one occasion when the young man had nearly flat lined, and yet he had recovered? Seeing as he was still alive yesterday.

They found a travel vista in his pocket. 

However, after cross referencing the photo within the database of known criminals: he came up clean. Now, the man was obviously comfortable breaking into houses, and yet not mainly combat: perhaps some kind of thief. Getting away without ever being caught once was odd.

The actual profession listed on his ID was: Assistant Cleaner. For a company called ‘Vongola Pluming.’ A shell company with the same name of Vongola used to hire Reborn as a tutor. Mafia.

And assuming all mafia had the ability to spout dying will flames, did the man have the ability to die in the first place?

John of the forensics department sticks his head out of the room.

“Tsuna? You’re going to have to be a bit further away from the evidence for comforts sake…” 

“Of course, officer.”

* * *

“Tsuna, you okay?” Officer Sasagawa says, meeting him halfway to the waiting room. 

“I am fine.”

In fact, this was much less panic the then first time he had seen a man murdered in front of him since being in Namimori, albeit the last one was much more gruesome in comparison. There were some aspects of him that still seemed to respond as though he were the teenybopper he was physically.

His shoulders are still stiff, and his breathing was fiercely controlled. The adrenaline pumped to his brain was a dangerous thing to leave unattended without action.

“Tsuna, if you need to talk, TALK.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Officer Sasagawa eyes him for a few more moments, before he is called away to be questioned as well. 

This, however, doesn’t mean he’s done dealing with those named Sasagawa, the man’s wife and children are sitting down in the waiting room as well, witnessing the entire exchange.

Mrs. Sasagawa gives a low whistle, before giving her assessment.

“Duuuudddeee, you’re one of us now…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He used his ‘dad voice on you…”

“EXTREME welcome to the family Otouto!”

Tsuna blinks, unaware of how the situation escalated without his notice. 

“Ah, thank you?”

“You should EXTREME Join my boxing club!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a little bad for Moretti, he can't exactly... come alive, in the middle of police HQ.


	8. Reborn's weekly report #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reborn talks to Iemitsu about Tsunayoshi

Reborn was having a bad day. His weekly report and analysis of Tsuna skills were coming to a close and certain things were harder to put onto paper.

“How shall I word that he sent their employee to the morgue?”

Leon, predictably: doesn’t respond.

Reborn looks down at the sheet of paper, wondering how it would affect his career as whole should he send it off:

 

‘Beginning evaluation:

Has an average strength, speed, stamina. Intelligence is far beyond previous reports. Has a heavy reliance of law enforcement both in and out of his school. 

His social skills need work: but he lacks seeing the value in having friends. Guardians will need to work harder to impress him.

Tsuna has not shown appropriate empathy toward children.

Concerning reaction after a pre-conceived murder: Tsunayoshi’s woke up before evidence could be planted, so results aren’t concise… ‘

 

“We should just set up a meeting.” 

He mutters, tearing up the paper in two and then tossing it into the fireplace in his room.

Due to the fact that he couldn’t set up an actual fireplace in such short notice, he had made out of his flames: that way there was no smoke or risk of burning while providing all the comforts of home. 

He uses it now to burn paperwork and heal his migraines. 

He wondered how he would bring up the topic of ‘by the way your wife knows all about us…’ Wouldn’t they have sent a cleanup crew before things could get this out of hand? 

Well, he wouldn’t approach that topic unless asked, Iemitsu could sort out his own family problems. 

He signs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. By this point, he would end up telling him ‘go make guardians.’ The problem, however, was that Tsuna was more likely to not do so afterwards. Why would a law abiding citizen pull in civilians into the mafia?

Storm might be possible, since he was already in the mafia: and had some mutual respect?

Rain was… they were friends at least. 

Cloud, entirely questionable, but if invited to a fight: would bond. (But would the sky?)

Sun was the brightest prospect, mainly because he had planted a listening device onto Tsuna and overheard their conversation. Getting adopted into the family was a decent way to go, but the father was still a police officer and a long-time companion. HE was more likely to call the father and get arrested then bond with the son.

The biggest worry, honestly, would be Tsuna’s confidence in law enforcement. 

There’s a knock at his door, Tsuna had come back from the police station, and at least the boy was polite. 

“Reborn-Sensei, about those murder notes…” 

Reborn wonders how wise it would be to give the boy a folder about murder right after the boy had allegedly witnessed one. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would be healthy, much less inquired after. Maybe Tsuna was an adrenaline junkie?

Mental health had never really be a problem, even as he was peppering the boy with bullets while he did pushups. But a deal was a deal.

Reborn hops off his chair, grabbing the manila folder on his way to the door.

He opens the door, passing the folder to the boy.

“I’m going to be at a meeting, I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”

“Ittekimasu.”

Tsuna responds dutifully, already thumbing through the different photos of death. He did seem to take a liking to mystery: perhaps that would be something Reborn could take advantage of.

* * *

Tsuna flips through the folder. Already he notices several things that could be considered too convent. The man in question was dead, undoubtedly.

(Though the mafia might have found a way to get around that? The man in the morgue hasn’t turned blue: he’s not dead… not fully dead yet. The autopsy wasn’t finished until later this week.) 

But here he had pictures of the Mafia. From this: their assets and fake companies can be traced back. 

The crest of the Vongola (clam?) famiglia was on the body. The face was see visible on two of the pictures. Dead, or presumed dead, they wouldn’t require as much scrutiny. From there: he could trace down the morgue it was in before being buried or burned. The loose location of the mafia was in his grasp.

Now, indeed if he was allowed to investigate, he might be able to…

Ah, what’s this? One the last photo hiding the man’s face, there was a hint of a bulletproof vest underneath the alleged wound. The bulk only familiar to him because his own precautions. This one isn’t dead just yet.

* * *

Reborn nurses a coffee, despite his mental age: he was still very much a lightweight.

Why was he even meeting in a bar? Honestly it was a neutral ground and any fighting could be easily covered up due to being surrounded by drunks. It would have been nice to have mist with him to stop himself from sticking out like a sore thumb.

However, the few mists he knew wouldn’t need to come to such a small meeting. For one: he was pained to give Viper business, and Shamal was across the states. 

So far, he had been relying on his reputation alone to actually allow him into Mafia bars. (Criminal or not, they had standards) but that led to himself being targeted while enjoying his drink.

“See him, Lambo-san? He’s the world’s greatest hitman. That’s your target.”

“Oh? Lambo can take care of the puny hitman!”

What were they even teaching children these days? That was rather high aiming. (Despite the fact he isn’t sure if he CAN die, what would happen to the sun pacifier? He was a living sacrifice trapped within time, feeding it: or else the world were to be destroyed.)

He turns toward the conversation, only a few seats away from him, and glares. 

“On second thought, let’s try something else first…”  
.  
.  
.  
“Ah, Reborn, sorry for the wait.” Iemitsu says, pulling up a seat next to him.

He’s a good leader, just a bad father despite his best efforts. There’s only so much you can do when you don’t spend much time at home and are passing down a mafia famiglia onto your civilian son, after all.

“Iemitsu, I was under the impression Lal would be coming.”

“Ah, about that, she got caught up in paperwork.”

Iemitsu says, rather sheepishly scratched the back of his blond head. It was honestly disturbing to see a face so close to Tsuna’s and yet in such a lighthearted manner. Granted, he met Iemitsu first: but he knew his students better.

Lal not showing wasn’t a complete surprise. She probably won a bet against Iemitsu and opted out of the meeting.

“Let’s get straight to business, Tsuna needs to make guardians. He has yet to bond.”

Iemitsu’s eyes sharpened, alert. It was comforting.

“Nana had told me of some of his friends? Joe, Sasagawa…?”

“Those are fully grown police men. He’s shown a heavy reliance on the public law enforcement. In school, he’s cut deals with the prefect in charge of discipline by filing paperwork to expose staff of fraud.”

“So he’s… a snitch?”

“I’m not sure that’s the right word for it.”

Iemitsu considers this. It’s the mafia, this is a rather tricky situation. They would have to de-sensitive Tsuna to the mafia, perhaps he would grow used to them over time. Certainly a visit from his father couldn’t hurt…

“What happened to Gokudera?”

“Sent to jail.”

“Ah…”

“He’s still in Namimori, at the very least. But, Moretti, your man sent to test Tsuna’s reaction to murder: is in a police forensics lab.”

“I’ll arrange for him to be moved once he gets to the morgue.”

Reborn reframes from mentioning how long that will take. After the police was done, Tsuna would start his own investigation before the mafia could claim his dead body. 

“Tsuna doesn’t make connections easily, he may be suffering from abandonment issues. That plus the fact that most people tend to avoid him, keeps him rather isolate.”

“Hmm… How about if we invited him to the next Vongola ball?”

Reborn thinks about it, then slowly nods. This could either go really well… or really, REALLY poorly. He would need to teach his student criminal etiquette. Like: don’t turn in your allies to the police.

“That might work, but have a bodyguard with him.”

What would a hyper intelligent law abiding citizen do in the middle of a crowd of extremely powerful mafia? Tsuna gave Reborn a certain amount of respect for his profession, perhaps he could elicit a similar response for others?

“Of course, I have full confidence in your ability. You did a great job with Dino.”

True, perhaps he could introduce Dino to Tsuna…. Yes, that could work out well. Dino would inevitably get sent to prison, but was in friendly enough standings to not hold it against them. 

“Good talking to you.” 

Reborn says, hopping down from his seat. 

“Oh, by the way!” Iemitsu says, twisting around in his chair, “One of your old girlfriends is looking for you.”

“Ho?”

“Poison scorpion, Hayato’s sister I think.”

Reborn grimaces inwardly, once she tracks him down to the Vongola heir: Tsuna was as risk of being assassinated. His flames were strong… But Bianchi would probably end up in prison for stalking.

He needed to make some more calls.

* * *

Moretti is dead, his heart completely stopped. But there is a limit in there, somewhere. He can’t come back once his body has started to decay, after all. 

He opens his eyes, blinking as if to check they really worked. Where is he? It’s so dark… He takes a deep breathe in, filling his unused lungs with fresh air. Morgue? Most likely. He knew this situation was familiar!

Right, he would probably need food or something... his doctor would be so angry at him for forgetting basic nutrition. Ahaha… now, how to open the door.

He shifts his hands up, using traction to push the door open and slide his bed out.

Thankfully, he’s still wearing clothes. The same one’s in fact. Strange, usually before cremation they- He’s still under investigation isn’t he?

Yep, he blinks at the sudden bright light. It was still day, and he was in the police department still. WHY, why is this his life?!

A sandwich is on the table, so he takes it: and goes back into his prison. Closing the door behind him before someone could catch him. After a few moments he relaxes, scarfing down the sandwich and placing himself back into death….

“Oy! Who took my sandwich? Kyle, I’m looking at you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out how to make long story arcs instead of the short-story thing i was doing before! Hint: you leave things open ended. 
> 
> so: what is reborn going to do about Bianchi, when is Moretti getting out of the morgue, What is Tsuna planning with those murder files, and whats this about a vongola ball?! 
> 
> Find out on the next exiting episode of: um... Sherlock Sawada!
> 
> -cue cheesy music


	9. Shakespear's Belladonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianchi comes to town.

Tsuna knew a thing or two about poisons. It wasn’t a subject brought up much in polite company, nor was it a subject instantly recognizable from his old fame. But it wasn’t something he was forgetful of: he spent too much time cultivating his skill in chemicals for that.

A woman on a bicycle rides past him, slowing down slightly to throw an object at him.

“Here, have this!” 

She then speeds up, leaving the object still mid-way in the air and heading toward him. Not Japanese, they were too polite for such a quick intervention despite the familiarity of their honorifics. Foreign, Italian perhaps going by her accent. 

It’s a soda can. 

He catches it with one hand, before immediately dropping it. 

It smelled of acidic acid, and the fume coming off of it were less then subtle. He could retrieve the fingerprint once he had some butyl rubber gloves that wouldn’t melt on contact with the acid, but it would be doubtful if much of the can remained by then. 

Reborn would rather prefer he didn’t send his teaching helpers to jail.

But what of this one? That was a clear attempt on his life. Reborn was a harsh teacher, but even this was a bit too far for his tastes. If he wanted Tsuna to learn a lesson on accepting things from strangers, then he would have used a less noticeable substance with only a mild effect. Disabling him from training was a rather redundant idea. 

Therefore, this was unauthorized.

She was covering her face, they would have to wait for her to come back to the scene of the crime: he doubted the woman would stop her attempts here if she was desperate enough to go for a hit and run. But as a rouge assassin, she would also be endangering the rest of the school should he go there. 

“Ototo!” 

A voice yells, the sound of heavy footfalls as Reiyoi ran toward him on his early morning workout routine. Reborn had started Tsuna on his own morning routine, trying to catch him off-guard I the mornings.

“Good morning, Ryohei-nii.” 

Mrs. Sasagawa had insisted upon the honorifics, his own mother rather enthusiastically agreeing.

“Are you also doing an EXTREME morning workout!?” 

“I’m on my way to school now.” Tsuna says instead, taking note of where he left the evidence. 

Maybe he could convince Reborn to let him have the day off.

He takes out his phone, dialing in the hitman’s number: he had more than a few numbers memorized. For such a dangerous contact as Reborn, one has to be prepared to have their phone stolen.

“Who are you and why do you have this number?” was the dark answer.

“Good morning, Reborn-sensei. I’m calling you from my burner phone.” 

Tsuna says pleasantly. Taking note of his Teacher’s response for later investigation.

“Tsuna. Why do you have a burner phone?”

“For safety. I saw it work very effectively in a movie. At 6:47 a.m. this morning a foreign woman on a bicycle threw a soda can full of corrosive acid toward me. I request to stay home today.”

“…Fine. Don’t go to the police.”

Tsuna raises an eyebrow, Reborn knew this particular woman? Interesting. 

“WHO ARE YOU EXTREMELY TALKING TO?” Ryohei-nii says, bouncing next to him to keep his exercise going. He looks uncharacteristically focused, having heard the part there Tsuna was attacked. 

He was surprised and flattered by how far Ryohei was taking his self-proclaimed ‘elder brother’ position.

“Very well, Goodbye.” Tsuna says, hanging on the phone. “I was talking to my tutor.”

“You have an EXTREME tutor?” 

“Yes, my father hired him.” 

“But don’t you already do well in school anyway?!” 

“Thank you, Reborn-sensei teaches me life skills outside of schoolwork. Such as: The inner hierarchy of the Mafia, strength training. And currently he’s instructing me on how to not offend criminals.”

“You should EXTREMELY join my boxing club!”

Tsuna nods slowly, “Perhaps...”

Ryohei wasn’t wrong in providing him with access with a possible self-defense skill. Reborn would be pleased with it. Generally he preferred fencing, given the skillset he was trained with the first time around: however the kendo club had proved disagreeable with him. 

For now: he should be collecting fingerprints from the can, and then disposing of the acid before someone made the mistake of stepping on it.

“I have to get to school, be safe to the EXTREME! Ototo!” 

Tsuna raises a hand in parting, 

“Have a nice day Ryohei-nii-san.”

* * *

Officer Sasagawa is on patrol duty, somewhere near the further corner of the city. The area closer to his family was always very clear of delinquents, so the patrols around there were very lax.

It’s around an hour’s drive from his house, so he has to wake up EXTREMELY early to get to his post on time after his morning routine. His wife has packed him coffee. He’s a little disappointed he won’t be able to keep a closer eye on Tsuna after the scary break-in.

He’s sitting the police vehicle with a speed-gun, watching the cars enter the city with a diligent eye. Officer Leorio is parked ahead of him, drinking some of the coffee his wife made to share.

SonShine: EXTREME hello!

Sandwich-stealer: Wait, whose this?

Officer3xtr33m: Ryohei, this is only for EXTREME emergencies?!

Sandwich-stealer: Right, why did I bother asking…?

Officer-Ito: whoa, it’s genetic.

SonShine: Tsuna was attacked this morning by some lady throwing acid in a can at him!!!

Officer3xtr33m: !!! Where is he?!!

* * *

Reborn scowls, his trigger finger was itchy to the point of wanted to decimate something. The thing about having Dying will powered machinery, it responded to your emotions after a certain amount of time wielding it, strong emotions was a strong will to live after all. So in fact, a single round would result in a medium sized building being blown away.

He wasn’t one of the World’s Best without discreetness, however.

Reborn is standing on top of the counter, watching the woman with lavender hair cooking chocolate while staring at a map to Namimori middle-school. 

“Bianchi, please stop hunting my student.”

“Ah- REBORN! My love!” 

Bianchi drops the batter onto the table, turning to face him with hearts in her eyes. Ex-girlfriend or not, she was a very pretty girl: more so when she wasn’t plotting murder. Their brief partnership could be defined as dating in a very-stretched version of the word. And while he liked the reputation, his current form was not appropriate for it.

“Don’t worry, my darling! I will get rid of the heir so you will be free!” She says, balling up her fists in a makeshift anime girl positon. It was cute, really. But it would be harder to convince her now.

In a more normal set of circumstances, he would let her terrorize his student: he knew how to take advantage of a good learning experience, especially if it was provided to him with a clean alibi. 

The situation now, however, was not something he could see run unless he wanted the vindice shutting him down.

“You realize this would destroy my reputation.” Reborn says dryly.

“He sent Gokudera to the police. This is personal now.” Bianchi replies, just as dryly. 

He frowns, staying silent on the counter as Bianchi goes back to her baking. Sometimes he could almost swear Bianchi was a cloud before he had witnessed her temper. 

\----

“Good morning Gokudera!”

“Good morn- BIANCHE?!! … Urk…” 

Bianchi waves a little hello, grabbing onto her small brother’s arm before he could slump onto the ground. It garners too much attention to remain discreet unfortunately, Gokudera got popular. She would be lying if she wasn’t disappointed in his reaction though.

But he was so popular with the ladies now~

“Ano, is he okay?” 

“Wow, Hayato got picked up by a hot chick!”

“W-what?!!”

“Calm down! She’s way too old for him!”

“He likes older woman…?”

“I’m just here to pick up my little brother.” She says, cheerfully, adjusting Gokudera to rest over her shoulder. 

“YES!”

“Be careful, your crush is showing Yuki.”

“I ship it.”

She drags him to the nurse’s office, opening the door with her foot.

The Actual nurse had been had a bad case of food poisoning (by yours truly). And all she had had to do was kindly intercept for a temporary position! 

Bianchi dumps Gokudera onto the medical bed, then grabs his legs and adjusts until he’s in a normal resting position. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too mad when he woke up. She generally tried to keep a distance from him for his health, but she couldn’t help dropping in now and again for the sake of family.

Nothing demanded family attention like a sky’s rejection. 

Her plan was derailed, now. She had to go find where Sawada was by running around the school? The boy didn’t have friends to track down though. The report Reborn sent in said he was socially isolate, but was on some kind of… Discipline committee?

Bianchi could ask around for Sawada or this club was. 

She steps outside the nurse’s office, closing the door softly behind her.

“Does anyone know where the disciplinary committee is?”

\----

Ryohei is frustrated, and justifiably so. 

He’s already in his boxing gear, beating the pulp out of a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. He would be more upset if Kyoko got hurt, livid in fact. But he underestimated Tsuna.

His father had told him that his new Ototo was a trouble magnet.

One day and he already almost got EXTREMELY hurt! 

Ryohei needs to up his elder-brother game, maybe teach the smaller boy how to throw a proper punch. His father would be able to help during the weekend. 

“Oy! Ryohei, can you grab some more bandages from the nurse’s office?”

“EXTREME HAI!!”

“What’s got him so worked up?”

“Dunno, he was talking about that Sawada kid earlier though.”

Ryohei takes a towel and quickly wipes down the sweat that’s formed on his brow. 

He heads toward the nurses office, passing a lady with purple hair. Something about her makes him pause, she looks foreign. 

It’s a coincidence, he’s sure: but he still feels uneasy.  
\---

He walks into the nurse’s office, gingerly walking to the desk to pull out the drawer. There’s a special place where the bandages are kept. And generally they keep a large supply in the gym, the disciplinary club came by earlier to grab some.

“Urk… “

Ryohei looks down to see the crumbled form of a student laying on the medical bed.

“EXTREME HELLO!” 

“How long was I out…?”

“I EXTREMELY DON’T KNOW.”

The boy looks familiar, in a way that all foreign people look the same.

“Do you know who the lady with purple hair is?”

The boy winces,

“Bianchi? Why do you want to know?” He scowls, almost like a confession. 

“My ototo was attacked by a foreign lady throwing acid at him!”

Straightforwardness was a virtue. 

“WHY WOULD MY SISTER ATTACK SOME RANDOM BOY.” The boy demands, scowling. Protectiveness of your siblings is the sign of a good person!

“EXTREMELY FORGIVE ME, I WAS WRONG!” Ryohei yells back.

“FINE! Whose your brother anyway?!” 

“Tsunayoshi Sawada! We EXTREMELY adopted him a week ago!”

“Well-

* * *

Reborn stares down at phone. Debating how likely this would work. He pressed the call button.

“Shamal, I need all the antidotes you have.”

“Got Bianchi angry again?”

“No. My student did, you’ll probably need to treat him once she’s done with him.”

“Don’t do boys.”

“He’s never kissed a girl in his life: feel pity. I’m cashing in a favor.”

“… If you’re so desperate, why don’t you just STOP her?”

“He insulted the mafia and sent her younger brother to jail.”

“I send you the antidotes, but I won’t treat him.”

If nothing else, Reborn will be drilling in mafia etiquette into that boys head if Bianchi doesn’t get there first.

After Shamal hangs up, Reborn checks the police chatroom.

Mama had showed him the chatroom that was shared with the police and their families to reporting crimes. 

One on hand, it would be good to monitor the police with the extra app. possibly calling them in to his own advantage?

On the other hand, it’s like watching a ghost slowly rise out of a non-intended casualty. 

The police were coming. Of course they were. And Tsuna didn’t have to lift a finger. Congratulations, Reborn, Tsuna got himself his first guardian.

* * *

“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!” 

“Call my father!”

“-Why would we call your father?”

“He’s an EXTREME policeman!”

“NO.” Gokudera shouts, running a hand frantically through his hair.

* * *

Bianchi frowns, Tsunayoshi didn’t show up to school today? Coward. 

She hadn’t been attacking him without knowing his schedule though. So she knew where he lived at least. 

Vongola would be upset. But as long as she kept it to killing the heir and not mentioning anything mafia-related to the civilian, she could be granted lenience by occupational hazards.

She places on her biker’s helmet, swinging a leg over her bicycle.

* * *

“DO you know where he is?!”

“At his house, we can get there faster using my EXTREME shortcut!”

* * *

As no official crime had been instigated, Officer Sasagawa was not allowed the use of his siren to get to Tsuna’s house faster. He called ahead to Tsuna’s mother first, making sure the boy stayed home.

Only five more minutes and he would be there.

* * *

Hibari was having more than an interesting day. The smart-herbivore had messaged him about a potential threat to the student body, which is not something that he would allow to go unaddressed. 

He took care of his own.

“Herbivore Takeshi, report.”

“Ha-ha... There’s a new nurse subbing today. Mrs. Kiomi is on medical leave: Food poisoning.”

“Hey! Why isn’t he being nicknamed?”

“Just give it some time. He’ll mess up eventually and get one.”

“Quiet, Complaining Herbivore.”

There are quiet snickers as ‘Complaining herbivore’ nods his head in defeat. 

Hibari frowns, a slight deepening of his regular expression.

“Assign an escort for the nurse sub. Kusakabe: what’s her background check?”

Kusakabe steps forward.

“From her resume, she has the basic medical training, otherwise: they rushed to fill the position.”

“…”

“Tsunayoshi was exempt from coming to school today. His tutor left the principal a permission slip.”

Kusakabe looks down at the clipboard he was holding, flipping past the rollcall page until a slip of paper fell out slightly.

“It says, ‘Tsunayoshi Sawada will not be coming to school today. –Home Tutor’.”

Hibari growled.

“I tried calling him, but I don’t know the number of his new burner phone…”

* * *

Tsuna is sitting in the Livingroom, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the latest crime article from outside Namimori. Crime was getting closer and closer to their town in a pattern of randomly targeted civilians. One of which was a pro-wrestler in civilian clothing. 

The objects taken were money, jackets, blankets, and one time: a water bottle.

All victims reported being knocked out, and awakening after the robbery.

If one were a simple thief, this would make sense: grabbing whatever you needed as you went along. The pro wrestler, on the other hand: was not someone that was simply mugged without a fight, one that would be in the wrestlers favor.

He takes a sip of coffee, considering. 

His burner phone, and that was quite the right was to describe it: He burned the phone after he was done with it. Would need to be replaced again. Information did not come cheap, and he expected mafia influence in this latest crime as well.

Tsuna flips the page.

*Knock-Knock*

Tsuna puts the paper down, standing up to go to the door. 

His mother was visiting a friend today, Anna was pregnant now wasn’t she? She must have wanted to tell his mother in person. 

He opens the door.

“Officer Sasagawa, how lovely to see you.”

“Ryohei said me you got EXTREME attacked?! I came as fast as I could!”

“Ah yes, I saw that in the chatroom. Son-shine?”

“My wife is EXTREMELY creative!”

“Come in, I made coffee.”

\---

SunFlower: Hey dad! How’s Tsuna?

Officer3xtr33m: he looks nervous, I think he’s waiting for something to happen.

SunFlower: eh??! Is that lady still around? O.O

Officer3xtr33m: We’re still investigating. I’m keeping an eye on Tsuna till the case is over.

Officer Sasagawa is typing away on his smartphone, large hands delicately pressing down the buttons to send a text. He was comfortably sitting on the sofa opposing Tsuna, who was reading a newspaper. 

He should tell the rest of the police department where he was.

Officer3xtr33m: I’m at Tsuna’s house!

Officer-Ito: Great! How’s he doing?

OfficerSmith: we’ve gotten access to the local cameras: Female, Purple hair, higher teens, riding on a blue bicycle. Last seen at 6:45. She ducked out of camera view afterwards… But Tsuna should be able to identify her by voice if we bring in a suspect.

JoeTheDonut: See, now I feel guilty for not wanting to sell him that bulletproof vest.

Officer-Smith: How are you even awake right now? Don’t you have graveyard shift again tonight?

JoeTheDonut: Caffeine, lots of caffeine.

TranferOfficerLeorio: So this is where you ran off to, have we invented a criminal-away spray? This kid sounds like he could use it.

ForensicsJohnDoe: On it.

Officer3xtr33m: he’s doing fine so far, little jumpy. EXTREME sorry Leorio!

ForensicsJohnDoe: it will smell like jail, donuts, and nightmares.

* * *

“So what the EXTREME plan, enemy’s sister!?

“Call me Gokudera!-“

“EXTREME nice to meet you, Gokudera. My name is RYOHEI!”

“Ryohei, can you call Tsunayoshi?”

Ryohei slows down, huffing softly. Gokudera catches up to him, panting and leans down to support himself with his legs. They’re somewhere near Tsuna’s neighborhood, running through an alley.

Ryohei looks for his phone in his pocket.

“I EXTREME left my phone at club!”

“Pf-WHAT?!”

“I EXTRE-“

“There she is!”

A blue bicycle appears up ahead the alley, flashing in and out of view.

* * *

Bianchi’s riding her bicycle, rented from a shady shop in town. She’s getting attached to it a bit though: she original was going to get rid of it when she was done killing Tsunayoshi, but it was really nice!

She can feel Reborn’s presence following her. He didn’t have to hide, she would welcome his presence even if they were arguing right now. Why couldn’t he see she was fighting for him too?

Gokudera as well, she wanted to act as an elder sister to him even if he had a low constitution! 

Bianchi feels the wind whipping through her hair, it was a nice bicycle.

“BIANCHI!!”

She startles, shifting her bike back onto track before she could careen into a bush. She glances a look behind her:

A white haired boy is holding Gokudera above his head like a piece of wood…

“Hi Gokudera!! Did you make a friend?!”

“WE ARE GOING TO EXTREMELY STOP YOU!”

“BIANCHI STOP!”

“Sorry, Gokudera! He must be slain with the power of LOVE!”

“BIANCHI NO! HE deserves it! But He- He’s still my possible SKY!”

“THE POWER OF LOVVEEE!!” she yells, cycling faster. The two boys fade start to fade out of view.

“Love..?” Says Gokudera’s friend.

* * *

“Now what are we going to do!!?” 

“I EXTREME know more shortcuts!”

* * *

Reborn watches Bianchi arrive to the Sawada’s house, swinging off her bike and placing a pizza-delivery hat onto her head. She grabs a box strapped to her bicycle and walks to the front door.

*knock knock*

“Pizz-“

“Poison Scorpion Bianchi.” Says Tsuna.

“Who is it Tsuna?” 

Officer Sasagawa asks from inside the house.

“An associate of mine.” Tsuna calls back.

Turning once again to Bianchi he asks: “would you like to come in?”

Reborn frowns as Bianchi and Tsuna disappear from view.

* * *

Bianchi, at this point in time was confused and EXTREMELY suspicious (was Hayato’s friend rubbing off on her?). For a civilian to know who she was, Reborn must have talked to him. (She was flattered he talked about her when she wasn’t here.)

But Reborn wouldn’t hand out this kind of information. If anything, she would be referred to as his girlfriend! 

“Would you like a glass of water, coffee, or tea?”

“Tea please!” 

Reborn favored coffee, but she never really liked the bitter taste without some cream. The only reason she wasn’t STRANGELING the kid right now was the very literal POLICEMAN sitting on the couch next to her.

“Ah…” Sasagawa says, holding a firm gaze on Tsuna.

Tsuna pays it no mind, pouring hot water from the kettle and placing in some tea leaves to steep. That deadpan expression was starting to creep her out, she knew feigned polite interest when she saw it.

“Rest assured, Officer, she is my tutor’s friend. I do not invite girls over to my house.”

Sasagawa looks sheepish, risking a sharp glace at Bianchi, but turns his gaze back to his phone. He seemed nice, if not over protective. Wasn’t Tsunayoshi’s father mafia though? Yes, of course he was. Head of the branch organization. Maybe Nana got remarried? 

Tsuna hands her a cup of tea, freshly steeped and where she saw the entire process of making it. 

She accepts it with a smile that screamed bloodlust.

Mmm, earl grey?

Tsuna takes a seat across from her, sitting down pleasantly. 

“So, Bianchi-san, what brings you to Namimori?”

“Oh, just visiting my brother and my boyfriend.” She bites out, trying to leak out murderous intent while feigning politeness.

“I see, Gokudera was it? Silver hair?”

Officer Sasagawa perked up, suddenly drawn into the ‘light chat’ they were having. (Did he just ignore the tension?)

“I EXTREMELY remember him! He’s the guy you proved innocent from the sheep murder!”

“A sheep murder?” she queries, sharply glancing between the two. 

“Some farmer killed his sheep, then someone with explosives EXTREMELY blew in the wall and the farmer blamed him. Gokudera had explosive on him and was reported near the area so he was suspect.”

“Explosives?”

“-Firecrackers, actually. They were modified, of course. But since they were neither registered as something a minor shouldn’t be able to get, or activated whatsoever: He’s not in danger of being hunted by the police.”

Tsuna takes a sip of his own tea. 

“The school sent him to detention, however. So I can understand if you are upset.”

Bianchi frowned, sipping her own tea to cover up her thoughts.

Tsuna takes this opportunity to ask another question:

“How long will you be staying in Namimori? I understand that Reborn generally has to travel a lot for his work. Now that he’s in a long-term position you will want to spend time with him.”

Bianchi beams, trying to hide her smile behind her tea-cup. Was that an invitation? Obviously she could bunk with Gokudera but… his allergies always acted up around her. Pollen from home probably.

“I was wondering if I could stay here.” She ventures.

“Absolutely not. She can EXTREMELY stay with my family. I have a wife and daughter that can help.” 

Sasagawa says firmly. 

Bianchi coughs, 

“Oh, you wouldn’t mind the intrusion?”

“Not at all, my wife wants me to invite more people over. Tsuna trusts you.”

*KNOCK KNOCK*

There suddenly a knock at the door, loud and desperate. A muffled yell comes from the outside:

“TSUNA, THERES AN-“

Tsuna strides across the room, gently yanking the door open. Ryohei and Gokudera flail into the room in an imagery not totally unlike headless chickens.

Gokudera is the one to first catch sight of her:

“BIANCHI DON’T KILL MY SKY!”

Bianchi smiles pleasantly, taking a sip of her earl grey tea. Was it always purple? 

Tsuna sits back down, casually, and raises and eyebrow at the two.

“I-I mean-“Gokudera stutters.

“OTO-SAN! What are you EXTREMELY doing here?”

“THE COP!?”

“Ryohei, I tried to text you, did you forget your phone?” 

Ryohei rubs the back of his head sheepishly, then glances with slight distrust toward Bianchi.

“So she ISN’T going to EXTREMELY-“

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken.” Tsuna muses, “Miss Bianchi is here to visit a relative and a friend.”

Tsuna glances outside through the window. If she squints, Bianchi can almost see Reborn hanging out disguised as one of the flowers in the neighbor’s flowerbed.

Aww, he was worried.

“Aren’t you two supposed to EXTREMELY be in school?”

Ryohei opens his mouth to interject, but gets yanked away by Gokudera: the two fleeing back to school before Mr. Sasagawa can offer to drive them.

“Shouldn’t you also be getting back to work? Officer Leorio ran into some trouble.” Tsuna says, peering down at the officer’s phone.

“Yeah, will you be EXTREMELY okay by yourself?”

“I’m sure the danger has passed, I will be fine.”

“Okay then, call Ryohei if you get into trouble. Bianchi-san, I can give you a lift to my wife?”

“No thank you… I have a prior engagement I need to attend to.”

* * *

“So, you didn’t kill him, Bianchi.”

“Ah, no Reborn, I see now.”

“Ho?”

“I will EXTREMELY win over your family’s approval!”

Reborn chokes on his saliva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nineteen pages long (it wasn't supposed to be so long o.o). Halfway through i was convinced i bit off more then i could chew.


	10. Free from the sky

That weekend Hana and Kyoko go out shopping for the day. Kyoko trying to show Hana the merits of a self-appreciation day. Hana is indeed tempted just a little, but her main motive to keep an eye on Kyoko after the Mochida incident. 

“I can’t believe the nerve of some people.” She mutters, eyeing a nice suit-dress in a nearby store window.

“Well… it’s fine now. He apologized after Oto-san heard about him from Tsuna-nii-san.” 

“Tsuna-nii? When did that happen?!”

Hana’s feeling on Tsuna were relatively fine. He was tardy and dismissive of school, but he seemed reasonable enough. And he helped Kyoko: but she couldn’t help but notice he attracted the weirdest people. 

“My dad adopted him at the police station they both work at.”

“I thought Tsuna worked for the disciplinary committee?” Not that he couldn’t get a part time job there, but the disciplinary committee was a gang. Police seemed counter intuitive unless they were planting a dirty cop. Or was It the other way around and he was a spy for the police?

“Hmm, I should ask about that.”

* * *

Tsuna walks into the police department on one of his trips to collect reward money for solving a case in the newspaper from the next town over. The distance to the police station is awkward, but it is a call they are used to receiving by now. 

He nods a short greeting to John of forensics. John brings up a hand in hello before turning back to the technical guy he’s apparently brought in to fix to cameras.

“So these thing are completely fried? You’re absolutely sure there’s no way to retrieve the footage.”

“Yeah, sorry about that: it’s going to cost a bit to replace these.”

“The government will pay for it, I just need the evidence.”

Kyle politely coughs from a corner, “Innocent until proven guilty.”

Tsuna regards the scene with a discerning glace.

It’s not hard to piece together; considering Kyle’s latest username as ‘Sandwich-Stealer’. But the fact that the cameras were broken was an altogether new development, Kyle wouldn’t go so far.

The forensics room also held the ‘not’ dead body of Moretti. (Honestly he was surprise Reborn hadn’t asked to have the man broken out. Exactly what respect did Reborn have for law enforcement?) Coincidence? Unlikely.

Now that he knows more about flames, he can safely guess at the possibility of a flame user suppressing their own life. It seems counter intuitive, given the nature of ‘dying will flames,’ but he has seen the value of faking one’s own death.

“May I have permission to enter the forensics room?” 

John turns distractedly toward him, 

“Granted, we’ve already got everything we can on the guy. No one’s pressing charges so you’re all clear.”

Tsuna nods, automatically theorizing that the results has somehow been forged. Its paranoia based on how much the mafia seems to effect everything in his day to day life now: so it’s not unfounded. But it’s unlike him to make guesses without solid evidence to back it up.

He enters the door, closing it gently behind him.

Walking up to the corpse drawer, he pulls out number three. Reaching out and pulling it back so the body is fully withdrawn. Moretti’s dead face is blank, eye’s rolled back into their sockets, and body limp.

Yet he can’t help but notice that the body hasn’t started to degrade or turn blue.

He picks up the test results that are sitting on the table next to him. They suggest that corpse preservation fluid had been added to him sometime during the incident. A probable theory based on the evidence, but once again: impossible.

He places it back down.

He lights his hand on fire, Orange: because that’s the type that will call out to others. Based on theory alone, this would be the greatest flame detection.

He places it next to Moretti’s hand.

He can definitely feel flames from the man, which only confirms his suspicions. Bianchi has a similar flame presence that inadvertently allows for her to poison anything she touches.

He disperses his own flames, invisible to those around him, and calls out to Kyle across the room.

“Where is he schedules to be moved to?”

“Oh, some official guys came over and demanded we send the body to a morgue in Italy. Crazy shipping costs, but something to do with his religion.”

Reborn is waiting for Moretti to get shipped back to Italy. Mafia, of course, will be waiting to get him. 

With the task settled, Tsuna picks up his bag and makes his exit.

“I’m done with him, so go ahead and send him off. His famigila will be getting worried.”

“He’s already dead… They want to sell his organs or something?”

It’s said with a hint of amusement, disbelieving, like he’s obliging a conspiracy theory of Tsuna’s. 

John stops his exit by walking into the room at that moment, carrying the fried camera. He throws a looks of suspicion at Kyle before stepping in front of Tsuna.

“I’m surrounded by law enforcement and detectives: I’m making use of it.”

“Ho?”

“Detect all you can from this.”

Tsuna inspects the object, carefully noting the way that it seems to be burnt up from the inside. Not an electrical fire, but evenly spaced throughout as if the whole thing was controlled. 

He reaches forward with a flame of his own, gently prodding the device still in John’s grip. 

While he cannot distinguish new flames from it, he can get the sense if it matched up to Moretti’s. It does not: the flame itself had to have been one totally devoid of any property.

His Intuition, the one that warns him of danger, says that it feels like hate. 

Other than the melted plastic, there are no signs of the camera being touched, and on the surface of it was layered fingerprint powder with no prints to be had but vague smudges. The assailant had to have been wearing gloves. Unfortunate, but Tsuna is sure that Moretti was the one to eat the sandwich.

So this was someone else covering for him, someone else that was presumably from the mafia that carried with them flames of an unknown variety. It may have been a co-worker, but such speculations were better left until solid proof was present. 

“I can tell you, Kyle didn’t steal your sandwich.” 

John looks at him, vaguely considering. Tsuna, of course, did not say that his sandwich WAS’T stolen. Though the amount of effort being placing into this investigation was rather much for a stolen lunch.

“Then who did?”

“The mafia.”

* * *

Jimithy Grant was an Italian American that grew up in the states until he was dragged into the mess of getting mugged in the corner of a drugstore three years ago. It wasn’t like he was committing any kind of crime, the most he did to deserve this kind of life was to FIGHT BACK.

“You have flames now, welcome to the mafia.” He mutters, kicking a stray tin can lying in the streets. 

He was given a crash-course in ‘how to not get arrested,’ and ‘organizations that will want to hunt you down,’ as well as a VERY informative book on: ‘how to become a criminal for dummies!”. (Honestly the best chapter was on how to break your thumb and get out of handcuffs, he had seen enough spy movies to know that that was just plain cool.)

He sighs, sliding a cigarette out of a pocket.

He lights his finger with a light red flame and presses the end, waiting for it to smoke before slipping it into his mouth. 

*RING RING RING*

Jim spits out the cigar into a nearby trashcan, turning away before he can witness the entire can go up in bright red flames. He looks around discreetly for any people listening in: though if there were any mists around it was all rather redundant.

“Whoa, there must have been a lot of Lithium in the garbage.” A bystander whistles appreciatively. Tourists: ignore them.

Jim flips of his phone, stepping into an alleyway before pressing down on the answer button.

“Hello, No-Joke.” He says pleasantly in English. 

“Good morning, Mr. Lithium.” Is the mild-mannered English reply. 

The boy had enough of an accent to not be American, but he would even take speaking British over the foreign tones of Italian that had been shoved into his head.

“I would like a report of any known mafia currently causing trouble at the moment.”

“Son, I think they’re all causing trouble of some kind.” He huffs a laugh, it seemed to be the only way they could earn a living, in fact. “I can listen around for current ones though.” 

“Indeed. That would be appreciated: I’ll wire the money to your account.” No-joke says, politely. 

“I can tell you right now, there’s a new fellow escaped from an experimentation lab. Nast thing, and he got a bad deal of it because the lab was run by a mafia group: so now the mafia police are after him.”

“Should I presume he did more than self-defense?”

“Oh, he did self-defense alright: burned that place to the ground, good riddance, but then some bystanders got hurt for it. He’s walking a tight rope, that one.”

“Interesting, where was he last seen?”

“Oh… somewhere near japan? I’m afraid it’s not close enough to the UK for your interests, though. I think there’s another guy somewhere in the Netherlands I heard about: but I’ll have to get back to you on that.” 

“I see. That will be all for now.”

“Kay’ bye for now then. Though, next time you call: try for between four to five A.M.”

He hangs up the phone, pleasantly humming to himself. He flips the phone closed and turns back to the face of the alleyway, of course… Things never were so simple for him anyway.

“Ah, Grant, Grant, Grant… who were you talking to?”

The tourist was a mist, of course he was. That was just… redundant. Like, couldn’t those things go invisibly anyway? What was the point other than being a jerk? He wasn’t even surprised Mist Tourist knew his name, creepy things.

“Roberto.” He deadpans a greeting. “That was my side-job. If you want to investigate, you can run my speech through google translate.”

“Haha… I already did that… I think I got the gist anyway…”

“Great, now stalk some other co-worker.”

“WAIT! Who’s ‘No-joke’?”

“Some rich British kid who got caught up in the mafia. Holed himself up in his room and calls me for the daily uptake in mafia news.”

* * *

Tsuna flips the phone closed, pausing for a moment and then letting RED flames engulf his hand. 

The phone is melted after a few seconds, and after a full minute there is nothing left. Handy, in some regards, yet rather curious. He burnt his phone with pure will power.

“Who was that Tsuna?” 

Reborn is standing to the side of the room, peering at him with deceptively large eyes. 

“Hmm, an acquaintance.” He replies, “I visited the police station this morning, your man Moretti is getting sent to an Italian morgue.”

“I see.” 

Reborn is silent for a moment, considering. He is not attempting to hide the listening device currently in his hand, but something else seems to be bothering him.

“How many colors can you make your flame?”

“All the standard ones.” 

Tsuna reaches for his newspaper and unfolds it, checking over the most recent reports of theft approaching Namimori. If the pace continued it would reach the town within the next two weeks.

“Can you hold two different ones at the same time?” 

In response, Tsuna raises his hand, sticking out two fingers: each holding a separately colored ‘dying will flame of the sky.’

“Yes.”

Now that has learned he can switch colors, he can stop ‘sky attraction.’ Before, it has been an unfortunate side effect, and has led him being chased down by the few students at his school. Gokudera may have been and extreme one of those cases. 

He couldn’t be sure if they were chasing his own dormant flames (unlikely). Or the residue that Timoteo left in its place along with the seal. He did not tolerate bullies, however.

The child is staring at him, a silent ‘how?’ Is playing on repeat in the man’s eyes.

“Dying will, or any will to be exact, comes from your mind.” Tsuna explained, he can’t help the smile that appears on his face when the child glares at him.

“Ho?”

“If I lose everything else in the world, Reborn, I will still have my mind.” 

-But not his sanity.-

* * *

Hana Kurakowa glares at the offending piece of cake laid out before her. Flavored a delicious Mocha, but enough carb to have her feeling bloated for a week. Does she risk it?

“Hana… It’s just a piece of cake, let yourself relax for a day.”

Hana glances at Kyoko, holding her hands of midway in a ‘calm down’ gesture. She frowns, once again staring at the cake in consideration.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll wait for next week so I can go with you.” 

“We can have a ‘Hana and Kyoko’ Day!” Kyoko cheers. She was always so happy, like a ray of sunshine. Unlike her brother who seemed to have an EXTREME case of hyper activeness, Kyoko slowed down to interact with the rest of them petty mortals.

They both turn away from the display cases of cake slices, Kyoko slower at it then Hana.

“So what shall we do instead?” 

Hana asks, valiantly attempting to move Kyoko away from the confectionaries before she ended up breaking her self-imposed dieting rules for ‘Kyoko and Hana’ day.

“Hmm, want to sing karaoke? But then we should invite some more people.” Kyoko mused. “What about Ryohei-nii-san?”

Hana almost choked on her own saliva, the mental image…. -She quickly composed herself.

A group of suspicious looking monkeys are walking up to them in her peripheral vision. It’s not paranoia if it was helpful measures to prevent her dear friend from trouble.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing one of Kyoko’s arms and moving her away from the trio. “I think I saw a cute dress in that store back the way we came…” 

Kyoko was HER territory. The Kyoko’s family to a lesser extent, after all they were all built to take care of themselves as long as Ryohei didn’t get himself cornered by monkeys again. Of course… 

What did that mean for Tsunayoshi Sawada?

* * *

Moretti breathe IN, inhaling the lungs that had remained stagnant for the last twenty hours in pure desperation. The BILL he would be sending Reborn….

He was so hungry.

He’s not in the same place as he was before the last dozen times. How long had it been? Two weeks and a half perhaps. Time went by fast when you were dead. It also went painfully slow. After all, his brain activity ceased and he. Was. Dead.

His heartrate is spiking, trying to rush circulation after being stagnant for so long.

Right now he’s in a box, cushioned instead of the cold metal table. Finally off the morgue then? 

He shift his position, rolling to one side in an attempt to make himself comfortable. His clothes were thankfully still the same, but there was something resting on top of his chest.

There was a soft loaf, with something moist placed in between it. 

It was a sandwich?

He closes his eyes, a silent thanks to God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up taking a hiatus last week, mostly due to procrastination and to a lesser extent: writers block, but mostly procrastination. sorry!
> 
> At this point, i feel kind of bad for moretti... so Tsuna gave him a sandwich.


	11. Mukuro Arc Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mukuro arc begins

Tsuna arose early the next morning, trying to deduce the feeling of ill-intent that seemed to radiate throughout the town. It was oddly chill, despite being mid-spring. His Hyper intuition deduced something was wrong that, otherwise, he would not have caught on so quickly.

He arrived at school with his bag carrying a baton and a spare, and of course his mind: as his first and last defense. He had bypassed his early-morning police-station visit with nothing but a feeling of ill.

Kyouko stalks up to him, declaring a mandatory meeting and dragging him into the staff room.

“Discipline-committee members have been attacked. Speak Smart-herbivore.”

Tsuna frowns, hiding it behind his hands as he laces them together on the table in front of him. The entire discipline committee is sitting down at the table, or otherwise standing vigilant on the sidelines. They are wary, and on edge: yet most of them seem unharmed. At the most: only a few faces are missing, and those could be counted as personal reasons.

Yet there are two faces he is searching for pacifically, the one man who is too popular to be overlooked. And the one man keeping the club sane, who would dictate HIBARI KYOYA’s particular concern: His personal version of Watson.

“Takeshi Yamamoto and Tetsuya Kusakabe.” 

“Hn.”

HIbari nods, gripping his tonfas in his hand below the table.

The disciplinary committee around him seems to share his sentiment, although with varying levels of caution and wariness for their leader. Truly, the only person that was keeping him in check was now injured.

A folder is passed to him by the committee secretary, showing him the pictures and the details of the scene compiled by the committee secretary. 

Hospitalized with several bruises, a small fracture. Takeshi seems to have taken a harder hit, a broken leg: Though that could be attributed to something else entirely. The fact that the attack seems to have taken place somewhere closer to the edge of their Namimori patrol and added to the fact of their rather GENTLE beating.

Tsuna narrows his eyes.

There have been previous incidents around that area, small robberies that don’t truly amount to anything large. This, however, was the first time the attacked had been injured: therefore this was planned.

If this is whom he suspects: the offenders needed very desperately to stay discrete, but hotels recently started invoking a policy of required identification (possibly for mafia influences to keep tabs within the city). They needed a place to store their ill-gotten goods, which of course would be recognized. 

They could possibly use mist flames, would hide most of their presence, but the drain from constant use would be a luxury unaffordable to them since they had started to attack rather than remaining docile. Thus removing them from the equation.

Therefore they would avoid places that were populated. They were new here, so the more discrete nooks and crannies discovered by the delinquent population would be unavailable to them.

So: large obvious abandoned shelter that was generally avoided by the populace of Namimori that were within traveling distance to the site of the attacked. 

He frown, reviewing his mental map of the area.

Kokuyo Land was a large target that would be taken, as it was abandoned and still waterproof. Kept clean only by random weekly patrols by the police, but perfect for a temporary base.

He stand up, pushing himself away from the table.

“I’m going for a walk.” 

“Hey now-“Starts a member who is behind him, they are disquieted by his indifferent declaration. The majority of their aggression is now being posed toward himself. 

“Take this seriously! Takeshi herbiv- Takeshi got attacked, he is in the HOSBITAL and you’re GOING FOR A WALK? What kind of self-centered egotistical JERK-“ 

A disciplinary committee grabs him by his jacket, twisting and raising him until he was no longer touching the ground.

“Isn’t Takeshi your friend?” Someone else whispers in the background. Tsuna resists the urge to flinch, keeping his calm around him and waiting out the storm.

“HE is one of us, and so help me you WILL-“

“Hn. I will come with you Smart-herbivore.” 

The room is silenced by Hibari’s command, their protest dying with struggle. A boy in the process of mauling Tsuna is glaring at him with some heat. 

With some aggressive hesitation, Tsuna is shoved rather forcefully out of the hold of the boy grabbing his shirt.

“I will be going, then.” He says. 

HIbari looks at him with a sharp gaze, as if promising judgment if he does not solve the investigation. This was his people, after all. Clouds had been said to be very protective. 

Tsuna steps out of the classroom, an amassing cloud followed behind him.

* * *

Hana kurokawa had spent too much time protecting her School’s idol for her senses to NOT pick up on situational awareness like it was a tidal wave crashing down on the school itself. 

“Hey, did you hear: The school’s benevolent dictator got attacked. He’s in the hospital.”

“HIBARI!!??”

“-In what universe would anyone EVER describe Hibari as ‘benevolent?”

“Oh, you mean the second in command, Tetsuya.”

“The only man that keeps us sane…”

Hana frowns. Discipline committee members meant Hibari would be getting up in arms… and by extension Sawada? What exactly did Sawada get up to doing in the disciplinary committee? From his stature, he couldn’t be mistaken for a delinquent if someone jacked him with protein powder and a yearlong workout routine.

“Hana, what are you thinking about?” Kyoko asks, observing Hana’s face with a trained eye.

“Monkeys.” Hana grouses, “Too many monkeys.” 

The door to the classroom is slammed open. Casually ignored until a fangirl catches sight of their delinquent crush. 

“Hayato-kun?” Someone coos.

“HES MINE.” Hisses the baseball manager. 

“HAS anyone seen Tsuna?!” Gokudera yells, over the slow murmurs of fan-clubs. 

There’s a generally consciences of ‘no’ within the classroom. Despite many trying to overlook and generally avoid the strangely intelligent boy like the plague, seeing as he brought nothing but more homework upon them, one had to know where someone was in order to avoid them. And Tsunayoshi had not shown up to class that morning. 

“Why are you interested?” Hana says, leaning back in her chair.

“BECAUSE HE’S MY BOSS- I don’t have time for this!” 

Gokudera books it back down the hall, eliciting come yelps of surprise from those who move to avoid him.

Hana narrows her eyes. She’s not even surprised that Tsunayoshi attacked the attention of the strangest people, it seemed to run in Kyoko’s genetics: even adoption. Be anywhere around him would be a pain, but… maybe she should keep her eyes peeled for the boy. 

“…Boss?”

* * *

Gokudera Hayato throws open the door to the boxing club, scanning his eyes around the room before they descended upon his intended target, and perhaps, only ally.

“RYOHEI! I can’t find Tsuna, I think Bianchi might have gotten to him!”

Ryohei looks up, his hands only half-wrapping in the boxing tape. 

“EXTREMELY AGAIN?!” 

“AGAIN?! What kind of guardian am i…?” Gokudera falls to the floor on his hands and knees, staring down at the floor in despair. He accepted the sky literally yesterday. How could he mess up THIS SOON?

“I saw Bianchi-san this morning though, didn’t she go the EXTREME police station? She mentioned something about earning Tsuna’s approval.”

“What.”

“She was EXTREMELY interested in forensics!!” 

“Forensics?”

“EXTREME FOLLOW ME!!”

* * *

Tsuna is walking casually, Hibari following behind as a constant pace.

He stops, looking down at the ground that had been photographed in the folder. Of course details would be gathered from the photo, but looking directly at the scene of the crime allowed for a larger perspective. 

The sense of nostalgia that he gained from being at an active crime scene was undeniable. 

“A broken leg, and two knocked out.” He murmurs, crouching close to the ground to see if he could detect anything.

There were some oddly shaped scratched on the ground, dictating some kind of metal object. 

There was also a piece of bone. 

Tsuna takes out a rubber glove, stretching it across his hand and picking up the piece of bone. Tooth, it was a fake bone denture designed to go over existing teeth. The white quality of it would suggest it was newly abandoned on the road, and the way it was cracked indicated it was forcefully cracked.

He lights his hand on orange fire, his original purpose in coming. To see if this was, indeed, the product of his mafia heritage. 

Florien Sun flame are lingering on this object. Reborn had a similar flame type, but this one was incredibly weaker in comparison.

“Smart-herbivore, explain why your hand is on fire.”

“Hmm, Very unfortunate genetics.”

Mafia meant he was probably in danger, Takeshi was targeted because they were friends. He had to assume Tetsuya Kusakabe was taken as a target of opportunity. A senior officer always came with the new recruits on patrols futher from base.

Tsuna narrows his eyes. This, of course, would indicate that other people he knew would be targeted.

* * *

“We are EXTREMELY almost there!”

“WHY do we always end up running places?!”

And skipping class, there seemed to be a pattern somehow. He needed to keep his boss from wandering so much, or just keep a better watch on him in general! He was always missing by the time Gokudera was looking for him.

“Hey, you part of the mafia?” 

A boy wearing a white beanie and a green school uniform stepping into their path. The uniform belonged It was a school nearby. He looked like trouble, that blank expression and glasses.

“Excuse me! We are EXTREME headed to the Police station!”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT JUUDAIME!?!”

The boy narrows his eyes, falling into some kind of stance as he reaches into his pocket.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

He raises his hand from his pocket, revealing a… Yo-yo. But something about it was off, this whole thing was strange. This was obviously an enemy of boss, Gokudera lowers himself into a fighting stance, reaching into his own pocket to fish out a stick of dynamite.

The boy jumps backwards, springing out his yo-yo in a walk- the-dog maneuver: truly a skilled opponent. Something starts to fly out… A barrage of needles!! Firing freely toward Ryohei and Gokudera. 

Ryohei dives, shoving Gokudera and himself out of the way.

“RYOHEI! That was- actually really impressive…”

“I have to protect EXTREME siblings!”

“Hm, if you’re done with your small talk. Die.” The glasses kid says, once again grabbing onto the bulk of the yo-yo. He dips his hand into his other pocket, pulling out ANOTHER yo-yo. 

Gokudera grits his teeth, lighting a stick of dynamite and throwing it at the boy. 

The boy jumps out of the way, right before the explosion goes off. Then proceeds to dance out of the way of the next five thrown at him. 

“EXTREME CHARGE!” 

Ryohei starts to run at glasses, now a few feet away. He’s bouncing from foot to foot in preparation to dodge, he pulls back an arm for a right-hook. 

Glasses raises his yo-yos, throwing an around-the-world that was duel aimed at gokudera. 

Ryohei raises his arms, bracing his legs as he takes a concentrated barrage.

Gokudera winces, and throws a stick of dynamite toward glasses.

Glasses once again dances back. Coward! 

“RYOHEI!”

Ryohei collapses downward, sitting with one leg on its knee. 

“Why you... TRIPPLE BOMBS!”

Gokudera snarls, draining his reserves with a truly impressive amount of lit dynamite landing on the street around glasses.

Glasses jumps back, prepares to once again dance out of the way.

Glasses is suddenly intercepted mid-air, the sound of something hitting him from behind the last thing he registers before his eyes widen and he’s shoved into the middle 24 worth’s firepower.

Gokudera grins viciously, before his eyes start to trail away from the collapsed body to search for the interference. A figure is standing behind the collapsed body of glasses.

“Who…?” 

“Hey, Ototo-kun!” Bianchi says, coolly waving a hand at him. 

“URK-”

* * *

“The perpetrators are at Kokuyo Land, the abandoned amusement part a block from here. Estimated around four to six enemies, at least two of whom are extremely skilled. They will possess singular powers such as, increased healing, illusions, hardening, slowing, or disintegration.” 

“Hn. Very well, report back to base, Smart-herbivore.”

Tsuna shakes his head, 

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to sit this one out.”

* * *

Reborn looks down at his phone reading the text he received in reply from Binachi a few moments prior.

Belladonna: Hello my love! I finished rescuing Hayato and Ryohei!! <3

Worlds-best-coffee: Good job.

Reborn nods to himself, subordinates were in check. Now to get them to the scene so they would have to chance to protect their sky. Bonds were built with mutual near-death experiences after all, with supervision of course.

Nana Sawada had been left with a VERY secured house, something that Reborn had spent the morning working on.

* * *

Hana has heard things about Tsunayoshi sawada. 

That he was a ghost, or some evil fiend from some other dimension come to gobble them all up- that one had been translated and spread via a kindergarden class. 

Today, though: she had heard quite the uproar about his heartless nature. She herself felt no pull toward the dramatized and gossiping side of the school save when it concerned Kyoko. And today, it concerned Kyoko.

“Don’t listen to them.” Hana scoffs, “they’re a bunch of monkeys.”

“That’s mean Hana! But… Do you think that Sawada actually did that? Just walked away when his friend was in the hospital?”

“Of course he did.”

“Oh…”

“He’s the type of person who would rather hunt that scum down than give flowers and ask a person whose leg is broken: ‘how are they doing?’.”

“H-Hana!”

But Kyoko is smiling now, so it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, ha... this isn't a finished plot arc-chapter. Woops. 
> 
> In case anyone is wondering: Tsuna hasn't run into Haru yet because he leaves his house early to go to the police station, and thus his walk to school doesn't intersect with haru's.


	12. Mukuro arc 2

Hayato cracks open his eyes, feeling the phantom pains of a stomach and nausea. They must have run into Bianchi again…. 

“YOU”RE EXTREMELY OKAY!” 

He blinks, raising his arms to defend himself from the bright light his eyes hadn’t adjusted to yet. He remembers they ran into a guy with glasses and fought with… yo-yos. An odd and unusually weapon, truly a fearsome opponent.

“Of course I’m- WHAT ABOUT YOU?!”

Ryohei is sitting next to him, bandages covering his front arms and his stomach. It wasn’t a pretty sight. 

“I was EXTREMELY patched up!”

“Don’t worry, the needles were troublesome: but not very deep.” A new voice assures.

“BIANCHI?!... Urk… Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Because she looks EXTREMELY sharp!”

Bianchi adjust her shades with a smirk. Preening at the complement. Reborn had said as much as well.

“Though, you might be more interested in hearing about your sky.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SKY BIANCHI?!”

“Such trust in your own sister! I would never hurt Reborn’s brother!” She says, before her face darkens, “There’s a new threat in Namimori: His name Is Rokudo Mukuro …”

* * *

“Herbivore, do not interfere with my fight.”

Hibari says, giving him a sharp glance as they star to walk. It’s almost a given that they will be facing conflict in the form of battle, perhaps it is the nature of Hibari’s discipline to begin with. 

Despite their opponents, Hibari would most likely pick a fight if none were available.

“Very well.” Tsuna says. 

They are outside the law on this task, as both means of authority have been blocked by law and by ignorance. Some kind of mafia police had to exist, but their continued lack of law over Mukuro so far would assume they have either decided against taking action: or are ignorant of his disturbance. 

Law reforms should be created, if any could actually be put in place. 

What would constitute a criminal in an underworld full of criminals? Something that this Mukuro had done, apparently. Exposing flames to the world seemed to be the only thing worthy of punishment.

So who enforced these things?

It was, in all likelihood, the same person who went to such lengths as to melt the inside of the security camera in the forensics department. Cold, lifeless flames did not occur naturally, in any person or thing. 

It was lifeless, as if the only thing sustaining it was pure hatred. It was not human.

They reach the entrance to Kokuyo Land in thirty minutes. The only reason they did not reach it sooner was because Hibari had been convinced not to run and thus: as he had convinced Hibari, ‘conserve energy for the fight ahead’.

There’s a boy standing in the front, waiting for them. He is stuffing both hands in his pockets, feigning casualness: but is in fact clutching some kind of weapon by his posture. A bruise on the side of his jaw dictated that he had been in some violence recently. That particular location however… so this was the boy who made the mistake of attacking a discipline committee member.

“Hey, so you must be the Mafia heir.” The blond boy sneers at Hibari, his teeth barred. 

Hibari narrows his eyes, throwing a glance at Tsuna in consideration.

Tsuna tilts his head slightly, confirming the statement to be true: for now.

“Your fight is with me, Herbivore.” 

“You’re a lot of bark, but can you bite?!” 

The blonde charges, swiping wide with an unnaturally sharp hand. 

Hibari holds up a tonfa to absorb the brunt of the attack, while Tsuna wisely dodges and weaves out of the way until he is safely on the sidelines.

The blond follows up with a swipe from his other hand.

Hibari counters with his other tonfa and ducks low, swinging his leg and slamming it into the blond with enough force to make the blond disengage. 

“HA! IS that all you got?” Blond boy taunts stereotypically. 

He removes something from his pocket, and shoves it into his mouth. 

It’s a retainer full of fake teeth. 

This must be the boy who attacked Takeshi.

He grins viciously, wincing slightly as his hair begins to extend. The retainer on his mouth begins to grow, creating the imagery of some kind of werewolf hybrid. 

Tsuna frowns thoughtfully, activating his flames to examine the boy.

The boy’s flame, sun, was using in a way to amplify the animal teeth in his mouth. It the spread down the rest of him, giving him animal-like qualities such as the unnatural growth of hair. While animal, it was still made of flames and thus: willpower. 

It wasn’t lightening, however, and therefore didn’t provide protection. Rather, it healed him right afterwards. 

Hibari swings his tonfa into the boy’s stomach, following up with a kick that forced the blond boy into the asphalt. The blond, in retaliation, darts to the side and then lunges with claws outstretched.

The blonde’s pain tolerance must be incredible.

The scars that littered the boy’s arms, as well as the large gash on his face, were rather telling of an unfortunate past. Something had happened to this child in the past. Traumatic enough for him to unlock his flames in a roundabout way.

Hibari, of course, would not be needing assistance. 

There was no way for him to see Tsuna’s flame if he had not unlocked his own, although Hibari’s was unlocked more instinctively.

Tsuna had watched for a week to observe if Hibari was using flames to propagate his death-glare. At his point in his research, it was definitely possible.

Reborn could also try this method, albeit ‘activating’ his death glare may not be as powerful as propagation. Bianchi’s flame, storm; were promising in the form of disintegration.

There was something strangely surreal in watched the two animal-themed trigger-happy teenagers fighting.

Hibari kicks the downed teen, knocking the fake teeth from his mouth.

“URK-“The blond boy cries. The sun flames being quenched at their source: the fur and animal features recede from his arms disappearing into smoke. 

“Herbivore, where is your superior?”

“PF! I’ll never betray Mukuro!” The blond growls, rolling away painfully and fishing out something from his coat pocket.

Hibari glares at him, his eyes narrowing.

A tonfa is quick to smack the boy’s head, knocking him out finally.

“Smart-Herbivore, where is the carnivore?”

“Within the base.” Tsuna gestures toward Kokuyo Park. With his own Flames activated: he could feel the miasma of mist flames that left it’s residue in the air. Mist flames lingered behind if not carefully collected, it had the effect of having control of the perception of a room. For it to be seeped into the entire park spoke volumes over the strength of their opponent.

“Hn.”

Hibari steps into the base, his frame tensing up as the mist flames swirled around him. His instincts were indeed commendable.

Tsuna watches for a few moments, silent, before stepping through the gates himself. The feeling that they were being lured in was as promising as it was unsettling.

* * *

Reborn frowns, this was becoming a risky first trial. He was confident his student wasn’t going in blind, if nothing else armed with the information he received from his informant. 

He watches cautiously. 

A man with skinny and grey, with his skin twisted so much that he looked like a deflated balloon swaggered closer to the Sawada residence. He was dressed in the same uniform as the boy who attacked Gokudera. 

Tsunayoshi didn’t seem that concerned about his mother’s safety, or perhaps he knew that part of Reborn’s contract was to keep the mother safe. It was a fine line between ignorant and confident.

One of these days he needed to figure out the boy’s reasoning.

He takes out Leon, letting his lizard glow and morph into his favored weapon: a handgun.

*BANG*

The figure dropped dead.

There was no mercy for those who threatened famiglia. 

It was at times like these where he reminded himself that he wasn’t a little child like so many of other people believed and treated him as. Except Tsuna, with his horrible child skills. 

He looks down to update his phone:

Worlds-best-coffee: Sawada residence is secured.

Belladonna: Kyoko is safe! Gokudera, Ryohei and I are on route to target.

* * *

Gokudera and Ryohei are running toward the abandoned Kokuyo land, with Ryohei leading the way because he knew the path as a resident of the area. 

They had just stopped some twisted freak from hurting Kyoko Sasagawa, originally Bianchi was going to go alone. But Ryohei wanted to be there if there was a threat to his younger sister.

“Kyoko and I went to Kokuyo land when we were EXTREMELY young!”

“Hmm, do you think Reborn would like amusement parks?”

Gokudera scowls, channeling his irritation with running faster. The transportation time between where they were and Kokuyo land was the most irritating part. There was nothing they could do but hurry over while Juudaime was fighting for his life!

* * *

“Hibari. I believe the man is incapacitated.”

“Hn. The carnivore hasn’t shown himself.”

Tsuna looked on long-suffering at the elder man, self-declared as ‘birds’, who was laying down on the ground. The screen to either side of them displayed pictures of the Sawada residence and a street corner that supposedly Kyoko had passed through.

It was fortunate that Reborn had those bases covered, however, and the actual combat had not taken long. Hibari was efficient, if not very impatient.

“Shall we slpit-up?”

“Hn. Call if you find the carnivore.”

Tsuna watches carefully at the man lying on the ground. He, like the last fight, held the scars of having been imprisoned somewhere. It was likely that Mukuro had recruited his minion by freeing them from the same prison/experimentation lab that he himself escaped from. They held him in high regard as like a personal savior. 

Tsuna nodded with some decision.

Hibari left the room, stalking the grounds with no little amount of bloodlust. His irritation had yet to find a proper target.

Tsuna dragged the body from view, handcuffing it in a closet to hide it from view.

* * *

Gokudera, Ryohei, and Bianchi have reached Kokuyo land when a box left randomly on the street explodes.

“WHA-?!”

“What EXTREMELY was that?!”

“An enemy attack, GET DOWN!” Bianchi orders.

They hide behind a concrete wall, conveniently located near them.

Gokudera scowls, narrowing his eyes while more things around them continue to explode for no apparent reason. There was a strange vibrating noise like an instrument that was coming from…

“THERE!” He declares, throwing three dynamite over to where a stack of rubble was reclining.

*BANG*

“What a lame weapon. I can’t believe that Kaki-pi had trouble with you guys.” A female voice says, lazily. She doesn’t seem to be taking this seriously at all! 

“I’ve never seen such shabby Mafioso.” The girl continues. 

Gokudera twitches,

“YOU’RE WEARING A SCHOOL INIFORM!” 

“Hm, don’t call me ‘you’ like you know me. I’m M.M. And I would never dress like this unless Mukuro-kun asked me.”

“Murkuro… That must mean! - how many of them are there?” Gokudera scowls.

The girls closes her eyes, tsking and shaking her head in exasperation. “Hm, seeing such gloomy looking-men just makes me sad. If I had to choose I would rather date Mukuro, men should have mon-“

Ryohei punches her clarinet, sometimes between her mid-rant monologues where she closed her eyes.

“I am EXTREMELY sorry! I have to EXTREMELY find my Ototo!”

“WHa-!” The girl shrieks, her clarinet shattered into wooden shards.

“YES! As expected as Ryohei!” Gokudera praises.

Bianchi walks toward the girl imposingly, a grim look filled with determination written across her face. “You’re wrong. Money doesn’t matter. LOVE is all that matters in a relationship!”

Then she slap a pair of handcuffs onto the girl’s wrist.

* * *

Hibari is still looking for the carnivore, wondering in Kokuyo land looking. The Smart-Herbivore had led him here, so the carnivore was here somewhere. 

Fighting the Copy carnivore- herbivore was interesting. But the herbivore was not strong enough to be a challenge. 

He was still angry that Kusakabe got himself injured, he would need to increase the discipline committee training if he had fallen t such a weak herbivore.

“So you must be the one who took out Ken.” A deep voice says.

“Hn. Who are you?”

“I’m Mukuro.”


	13. End of Mukuro arc

Tsuna walks, disguised as birds with his own mist flames, deeper into the bases rooms.

“Hey, birds: you defeat those kids?” 

He turns slowly and dramatically, keeping his character, and scowls.

“They cut down the twins and ran.” He spits.

The man, dark skinned with a fighter’s build watches him evenly, showing no trace of emotion that flickers in his eyes. So, not an ally, but not an immediate enemy either. He is approaching first however, and is more concerned about the ‘children’ then the possible injuries birds has sustained: I.E., a limp and bruised stomached and arms.

The man cracks a wry grin,

“They beat you down pretty bad, huh?”

Tsuna, as birds, narrows his eyes and huffs: turning away from the man. “You going to go deal with them?” 

“….I suppose.” The man says grimly. He is uncertain, not convinced. His build did not speak of prison time, nor any kind of experimentation that the rest of his ‘teammates’ did. 

His eyes only spoke of great grief.

“What? You going to switch sides now?” ‘Birds’ scoffs, indignantly.

The man stays silent. 

Tsuna narrows his eyes, away from the man’s view. His description was familiar: Lancia, Strongest Man in Northern Italy. His famiglia was destroyed a few months ago. What was he doing here?

“Birds, did you have family?”

“Not anymore.” Tsuna deadpans. “I assume you aren’t counting pets, because I blew all mine up a few moments ago.”

In reality, they had been set free. He did not approve of the practice of pet suicide-bombers and Hibari had a soft spot for small animals. Tsuna tried not to think of the implications of him calling his club members herbivores.

“Yeah, I killed mine to.” 

Tsuna though for a few moments, the context spoke ‘pets’ but the tone said ‘family’.

“Mukuro, I assume?” It wasn’t implausible for a man brilliant enough to escape capture, who vowed revenge against the mafia, to have been responsible for the murder of an entire famiglia.

“Possession bullet.”

* * *

Hibari grins, an odd feature on his face when directed toward another human being.

Finally, a carnivore to fight.

“I suppose I should have come out and fought you earlier,” Mukuro-carnivore muses, “You kept steam-rolling my… how do you refer to them? ‘Herbivores’.”

Hibari runs at the carnivore, thrusting out his tonfas to land a direct strike.

The image of the man dissipates, leaving nothing but mist in its wake. 

Hibari frowns, the smart-herbivore had told him of this; this carnivore was capable of illusions.

It was irritating. 

He narrows his eyes, sliding them around the clearing. The carnivore was still here. 

There’s a strike from the side, angled to hit his arm. Hibari dodges, ducking to the ground in a side-sweep with a tonfa raised to deflect the… trident. 

This carnivore used an unusual weapon. Good, it was unexpected.

The carnivore jumps backwards, evading the blow while his eyes are locked onto Hibari: examining his movements. His right eye was red, the kanji of six was written on his eyeball.

Hibari stiffens, something felt wrong: but he shoves the feeling away from him.

The carnivore narrows his eyes, and his red eye’s kanji switched to the mark for one. Another illusion follows, this time a large crater in the ground that spanned across the room.

“Hn.”

This was an illusion. 

He stares down, placing a foot onto the ‘empty air’. 

Mukuro runs at him, striking towards his stomach and then twisting the staff when Hibari defends with a tonfa. Hibari brings up his second tonfa and braces his legs to take the force.

The carnivore wastes no time in abandoning his frontal attack to kick him in the side.

Hibari twists his tonfa to take brunt of the attack and jumps backwards, narrowing his eyes at the carnivore. 

“You’re not much of a talker, are you? I supposed I’ve been spoiled concerning battle-banter.” 

“Hn.”

“It’s sad you’ve gotten involved in the mafia, I’m sure you could have had a bright career.”

Hibari lunges at the figure, only for it to dissipate.

A foot hands on his back, pushing him toward the ground. Hibari spins midair, blocking the oncoming trident with a tonfa and kicking his leg up at the carnivore’s stomach.

The carnivore lurches back, leaving enough time for Hibari to recover.

Hibari narrows his eyes. “Fight, carnivore.”

Mukuro grins, his eye switching to the kanji for ‘four’.

They both lunge,

Kick, block, stab, dodge, duck, counter-attack-

* * *

Gokudera runs into the main park building, Bianchi and an injured Ryohei behind him. 

The sounds of fighting were echoing inside the building that could be considered the ‘base’ of the park. They walk into a scene of two people fighting, a blur of the movements that would make any person’s head spin if they weren’t trained observers.

“Looks like the fight has started.” Bianchi notes seriously.

“Is that the EXTREME Discipline-committee president?” Ryohei asks, “He should EXTREME join my boxing club.”

“Where’s Juudaime?” Gokudera hisses.

Bianchi frowns, 

“He should be with Hibari, unless they split up. So he’s probably somewhere in the base still.”

“I will EXTREMELY go look for him!”

“RYOHEI, you can barely stand up at this point!” Gokudera argues. The boy had sustained a lot of injuries, and the antidote for the needles he was pricked with hadn’t been enough to cover the entirety of his injuries.

The man fighting Hibari is dressed in the green uniform like the others. 

“Hmm the main threat is right here. The man Hibari is fighting right now is Rokudo Mukuro.” Bianchi informs them. 

“That’s him?! But he’s only a teenager.”

“Don’t underestimating him, Hayato, he’s killed hundreds of Mafioso already.”

The man in question lands an uppercut that sends Hibari sprawling across the room, totally defeated.

Hayato gapes, then scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Mukuro says, “I would be surprised if he could beat me. I have more battle experience right now then he will have in his entire life.”

Bianchi narrows her eyes, shifting her gaze around them. This was supposed to be Tsuna’s battle. Where was he?

“Do you know how hard it is to lure in a guy with almost no close connections?” Mukuro continues, his eye flashing ‘one’, he spins his trident around and start to walks toward them.

Bianchi flinches, reaching for her pouch of poison cooking and throwing it at him.

He disappears into mist, reappearing a few inches from her and stabbing his trident at her. She was not a close combat fighter.

She jumps back, evading all but a scratch on her arm. This man was dangerous.

“Bianchi!” Gokudera calls.

Mukuro spins around, his eye kanji switching to four, and in a flash: he is behind Gokudera and stabbing his throwing arm.

“ACK-!” 

Gokudera sets of a stick of dynamite, momentarily catching himself and Mukuro in the blast, Ryohei rushes at him, both arms raised in a boxing stance. 

Mukuro kicks him in the stomach, with enough pressure to throw him back.

Ryohei staggers backward, still very injured from the first battle. 

“Ryohei, what a nice surprise.” 

Tsuna steps out from the hallway, seemingly casually walking down the hallway. His eyes hand on the bloodied Hibari as well as taking note of the injured Gokudera and Ryohei.

“Bianchi, Gokudera: I apologize for my tardiness.” 

Bianchi looks at him with sharp eyes. 

“Looks like the main character showed up.” Mukuro drawls. “Your comrades are already defeated.”

“It would appear so.”

“Cold.” 

Mukuro grins wryly, “It just makes my job easier, then.”

He lunges at Tsuna, almost a blur to regular vision.

Tsuna activates his flames, erupting in orange flames and dodging.

“Oh? Already unlocked all your powers then. Increasing your aura won’t make you stronger though.” 

Seemingly, Tsuna ignores this.

“Would you be willing to answer a few questions, Mukuro?”

“Battle banter. Why not? I feel pity for you.”

Mukuro lunges again, stabbing his trident over and over and Tsuna does nothing but dodge.

“How does remembering past lives give your abilities?”

Mukuro kicks out, Tsuna raises his hands in an x to absorb the attack and skids back five feet.

“Experience, Illusions have to be crafted from reference material after all.”

“And your strategy skills? Were they from that as well?” Tsuna says lightly.

“Don’t take it lightly!” Mukuro scowls, lunging at a dodging Tsuna and clipping his jaw. “I have seen the closed thing to hell on earth! I have seen more wars then you would survive through! And I have met the greatest man to ever walk on earth, and I watched him DIE.”

Murkuro’s eyes flashes to ‘five’.

“Watch out. That’s his most dangerous skill.” A voice comments.

“REBORN-SAN!” Bianchi turns, facing the baby who was applying gauze to an injured Gokudera. 

“Reborn-sama!” Gokudera gasps, then winces as it moves his injured arm.

“A BABY?!” Ryohei says.

\---

Reborn watches with narrowed eyes as Tsuna continues to fight with no apparent surprise at Reborn’s arrival. Bosses should take better care of their subordinates. 

He had been listening in on Tsuna’s conversation with Lancia using the listening device he had long since planted on Tsuna’s person. Mukuro’s plan, his secret weapon: Tsuna figured it all out.

“Tell me, how much do their injuries effect you?” Tsuna says, and there is a madness in his eyes. 

Mukuro snarls at him, throwing something that was a shadow image of himself at Tsuna. Tsuna side-steps it, seemingly unconcerned. There was battle adrenaline, but it was like Tsuna WANTED Mukuro enraged.

“I can’t help but notice: you have a ghost injury in your right leg when you’re in this particular form.”

Mukuro ram at him, swinging a wide-arc with his trident. 

“WHO are you?” He hisses. 

“My name is Tsunayoshi Sawada. But you might know me better as ‘The Greatest Man on Earth’.

Mukuro stumbles mid-lunge. 

“SHERLOCK?!”

“Hello John, It’s been a while.”

Rokudo Mukuro, pauses in his attacked. Throws back his head, and laughs.

“Tsuna,” Reborn narrows his eyes, Leon has crawled into his hand. “Who is Rokudo Mukuro to you?”

“Family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a comment on chapter three.
> 
> Aze on Chapter 3 Sun 25 Feb 2018 10:06PM EST  
> ... wait a minute.  
> WAIT A MINUTE.  
> Because of Mukuro's "six paths" thing he remember his past lives.  
> Sherlock/Tsuna remember.  
> You have the "Tsuna & Mukuro" tag.  
> So either they bond over their shared experiences...  
> ...OR MUKURO IS JOHN.
> 
> Comment Actions  
> Reply Thread Spam Delete  
> Aze on Chapter 3 Sun 25 Feb 2018 10:08PM EST  
> JOHN IS THAT YOU
> 
> Aze on Chapter 3 Sun 25 Feb 2018 10:23PM EST  
> ...no.  
> MORIARTY??!?!?!?!?
> 
>  
> 
> This comment made my day. And now i can tell you that you were correct. :)


	14. What he said.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly spot of tea

Mukuro laughs at him, bright and full of something akin to relief- if anything the mist did was evident on his face. The mist flames saturating the air still swirled around powerfully.

“Sherlock… Or, Tsuna?”

“Tsuna.”

Mukuro walks forward, standing directly in front of Tsuna and looking at him with a smirk; one hand still on his trident now handing loosely at his side like a walking stick.

“Well then, I am completely beaten. I suppose I have no choice but to join your team.” He says, as if he had somehow solved a problem with the correct answer and was feeling particularly smug about it.

Tsuna’s guardians were all in various positions of disarray; Hibari laying on the ground unconscious, Gokudera clutching his bleeding arm- and Ryohei fighting unconsciousness on the ground. 

Reborn watched with a blank face, trained from years of experience to hide his suspicion. 

Tsuna didn’t react visible, doing nothing but standing calmly even as Mukuro walked closer with that spear of his. Vongola intuition was still active- which meant the offer was genuine. 

Of all the mists he had run into, this one seemed to make the least amount of sense. 

“Congratulations Tsuna, you got a mist guardian.”

Tsuna nods almost imperceptivity, his shoulders still and blinking toward an empty part of the room. His eyes flickering around until landing on a single spot in the room that was clear of everyone else.

“I don’t trust him!” Gokudera says darkly, an injured arm grabbing onto the dynamite with impressive willpower- activating his flames without necessarily seeing them. Impressive, perhaps the boxer was rubbing off on him.

The spot begins to waver- the reality around it distorting until even Mukuro is standing a little but straighter.

“Vindice.” Reborn announces, a moment before the dark swirls of portals rippled into the fabric of space like some cheap si-fi movie with better graphics and tighter time constraints. Coldness seemed to radiate from the spot.

Chains shoot out, reaching toward Mukuro before being batted away by Tsuna’s baton. 

“Gentlemen.” Tsuna says pleasantly, making Reborn narrow his eyes to make sure it was still the same sky and not secretly replaced with Mukuro when no one was looking. Indeed it was still Tsuna, too sly and quick-minded for everyone’s nerves.

He takes a single step toward them, capturing their attention from Mukuro with an unbidden ease. 

Mukuro, for his part: seems perfectly content to wait from the sidelines while Tsuna takes center stage. 

“Tsunayoshi Sawada, you are obstructing business of the Vindice.” Came the dull and angry response from the officer, stepping out of the portal with the signature bandages and top hat, a dark cloak billowing around it.

For certain there were more than one around, Bianchi flickering her eyes to different corners of the room before visibly forcing herself to stay relaxed. The presence of the Vindice was… unsettling.

“I propose a deal,” Tsuna says, hyper-dying will flickering on to light up his eyes. 

Reborn watched in interest, it seemed he had found Tsuna’s limit. 

“There is nothing you can offer the Vindice.” 

“If you could not find a single gang of criminals for over a span of a month- I must insist I find your force to be lacking.” Tsuna drawls, raising a single delicate eyebrow in a taunt. 

“That is irrelevant, release the prisoner to our custody or we will proceed with force.”

“How about if I can help you track down a criminal? One that’s been alluding you for some time in fact.”

“And who would allude the Vindice?”

“Checker-face.”

“…”

A single portal opens up, spitting out a small baby Vindice- a round clear pacifier strung on its neck. Reborn narrows his eyes in shock, momentarily breathless. 

“Explain yourself.”

Tsuna smiles- that type of smile Reborn has witnessed when he receives confirmation of a particularly interesting case: Sherlock really was a nick-name that suited him.

“I will track down Checker-face within a week, and give you his location.”

“…” The Vindice takes a moment to consider this, “If you fail?”

“Then you may take Mukuro into Vindicare- as well as myself.” 

“We shall keep Mukuro hostage in Vindicare until the allotted time.”

“Denied, he is vital to my investigation.”

“You will be held responsible for every action that he takes.”

“Agreed.”

“Acceptable. But here me this, Tsunayoshi Sawada- if you fail this task: you will receive a face worst then death.” The amount of killing intent leaching into the room at that moment expanded; pressing against the walls to the point that cracks began to form. The current inhabitants buckled under the pressure. 

“Acceptable.” Tsuna nods sharply, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

As fast as they came- the cloaked figures retreated out of existence. Nothing left of their presence but the cold feeling soaked into their bones and the chilling warning. 

Mukuro patted Tsuna on the shoulder roughly.

“I knew I was missing something in my life, good to have you back.”

“And you as well.”

* * *

“How did you figure it out?”

-Is the first thing Reborn says when they leave the ruins of Kokuyo Park, standing calmly with a poker face that was near impenetrable. The fact that Tsuna hadn’t been shot yet spoke volumes.

“Figure out what?” Tsuna says. On one arm is Ryohei, large body slumped over and unconscious now that the fight I over- the ability to say awake for so long for the fight was admirable. 

Mukuro had stayed behind to look after his own group of hooligans- and there was no doubt Reborn would be seeing them at a later date. He had even offered to call 911 for Hibari since the broken bones might not let him be safely moved.

“The curse.”

“You are the best of the best, can you really expect your reputation to go unnoticed?”

* * *

Hayato was useless- essentially and to the point it wasn’t forgivable. What kind of right hand stood by helpless as their boss went in by himself to protect them from an enemy that they couldn’t even TOUCH.

Strong wasn’t a word he would immediately associate to his boss- but Judimain was amazing case and point. He only had to say a few words and then even the infamous mafia hater joined his side and acknowledged him as the greater…

“You’ll get stronger to protect the ones you love.”

Gokudera turns his head swiftly- spying the form of his sister leaning against the wall of the Sasagawa residence, a pair of glasses perched on her face. He scowls, turning away, almost breaking skin with his fingers clenched.

“I was useless.” 

There is a moment of silence- Bianchi opens her mouth to rebuke him when a sound comes from the other room.

“I EXTREMELY FAILED TO PROTECT MY OTOTO! I WILL EXTREME GET EXTREMELY STRONGER!”

Bianchi’s mouth snaps shut, then opens again: “What he said.”

* * *

Reborn watches Tsuna with keen eyes, taking in the way his face had shifted since meeting Mukuro- he somehow seemed lighter, as if the weight of the world was bearing down on his shoulders the entire time he knew him.

It wasn’t a look he was unfamiliar with- when was the last time he had seen a child that had witnessed too much: with that amount of painful hope in their eyes… Perhaps it was a sky thing.

Their relationship was rather simply summed up as ‘family’. But not Famiglia. 

Tsuna was sitting in his room, reading a newspaper at the desk- one from the next town over. He scanned the pages with a critical eye- his entire attention on the page. A good boss know how to focus even in strange situations.

Like making a deal with the vindice. 

Reborn can feel his fingers twitching for his gun: like all those times that Dino did something unadvised…

Tsuna unconsciously moves to protect his wrist, covering a small scratch he must have received from his ‘fight’. Reborn narrows his eyes, a scratch received by the Mukuro’s trident. 

“Tsuna.”

“Yes, Reborn-sensai?” 

“Don’t stay up late reading newspapers.”

\---

 

Tsuna goes to sleep at 9:00, the first time he’s dreamed in years.

He sits up; he is in a large empty space with stone ground and white walls. There is no movement here, everything neatly tucked away until he were to call upon them. He is familiar with this place, in the same way an architect would be familiar with his building design.

“Kufufufu, I grew up with stories of you…” A voice says.

Tsuna turns his head, watched the form of Mukuro go through a bin of folders- the box is labeled ‘john Watson’. He flips through a few and then dumps the rest of the pile back into the box, watching it with vague interest.

“You have the most organized mind I have ever seen.” Mukuro muses, “You were like a fairytale to me; too grand to be real- so forgive me for rubbing my eyes at the sight of you.”

The illusionist turns to walk toward him, inspecting him as well as the mind around him. He seems comfortable enough to not be on edge- but even that is a façade.

“How did you make a deal with the vindice?”

“Hyper-intuition, a side effect from my bloodline. It gave me the name.”

“You stuck out both our necks on an unproven fact and guesswork?” Mukuro sneers, rubbing a hand on his face and looking toward the sky- the ceiling built in a paradox relativity stairs art fashion. “You’re insane!”

“So I have been told.” Tsuna says mildly.

“How did you even get past my illusions?”

“Easily, I turned my flames off- Your illusions are made of flames, and only flame actives can see them.”

“That's a terrible idea! Why did the doctor ever follow you?” He scoffs. “That must be against every piece of medical advice he ever gave.”

“Disappointed?”

Mukuro grins, lips curling into a smile, “Never, You’re exactly the same Holmes.”

* * *

Hibari is unamused.

“Haha… nice to see you, boss!” Takeshi laughs, ignorant to the looks being thrown at him by Kusakabe telling him to be quiet. The poor pompadour haired teen sinks back into his mattress stone-facedly. 

Takeshi livened up the disciplinary committee- and did wonders for their P.R… but his tact was almost non-existent.

“Silence herbivore.”

“The only muscle I’m allowed to move is my voice!” Takeshi smiles, “did you run into Sawada? I heard he went to track down the pineapple head.”

The only thing Kusakabe had been hearing during their hospital stay was that Sawada abandoned him- and that he should cut off communications with him before he got hurt by the creepy teen. Somehow Takeshi had come to a different conclusion.

This, however, gains a small smile from Kyoya.

“Pineapple carnivore…” He says, narrowing his eyes in a glinting challenge.

* * *

The next day is Saturday, a pleasant day to go out for a spot of tea.

Mukuro smiles, sharply with an illusion covering him- toward the waitress. The image of the man he’s dressed as is Asian, a picture perfect stereotype of a business man with relative success. 

She smiles politely in return, taking his order back to the cooking station to prepare it.

“Tea, it’s at least something in common with Britain. I nearly went mad without a proper cup of joe in the beginning.” Tsuna muses, dressed with a dark wig covering his hair and a kimono covering the rest of him.

“I can imagine.” Mukuro replies, folding his hands in front of him onto the table. “You always had a pick of poison…”

Tsuna taps once on his arm, then reaches up to rub his eye. ‘We’re being watched. It’s a friendly.’

“Ah, you’re tutor seems nice… he’s been teaching you drama?”

Tsuna nods, 

“In the most ‘painfully’ dramatic fashion I could imagine- any experience? You seem like a fellow with a flair for flowery writing.”

“Perhaps,” Mukuro chuckles, “Did you know I used to be an actor? You could have cringed with your standards- but I loved it. I was blond! It was… maybe three years ago? Wow, it feels like a lifetime since then.”

‘Three lifetimes ago.’

“I should have known, it makes perfect sense- did you forget to tell me until now? I could have run before I made friends with you.” Dark-haired Tsuna groans. ‘How long?’

“You’re one to talk! And… it must have slipped my mind until now.”  
‘I only gained the memories this lifetime.’

“Anything else I should be worried about?”

“I have four other cousins, super distant.” Mukuro says, “One is a ballerina, an artist… and the last one played with his toy soldiers like a general- he retired young though. I believe you already know of the doctor and the magician?”  
‘I used to be a ballerina, then an artist, then a general- but I died young.’

“Hmm, I remember the doctor- always hanging around a shady fellow though… Did he get into a spot of trouble?”

“He died of old age.” 

“Good… It’s one of the better ways to go.”

The waitress comes back, a tray with two cups on it is laid on the table between them. She unloads the tea down and gathers the tray again, walking toward a different customer.

* * *

Reborn holds out his arm, Leon crawls down until he’s into the palm of Reborn’s hand. A shifting glow later, and Leon is transformed into a telephone with a truly impressive wi-fi connection. 

“Hello, this is the department office for Mafia Vongola’s boss. Any solicitation will be hunted down and thrown into jail.”

“When’s the Vongola ball?”

“Reborn-san!” The desk monkey squeaks, "Next month… Why?”

“Reschedule it for this week.”

“….”

“Just do it.”

“-FINE! Come to the office they said, you’ll be safe from hitmen and get a good dental bonus, creepy kids and their killing intent…”

Reborn’s eye twitched in annoyance, Leon stops the call. 

He sighs, then re-dials, 

“Reborn.” 

Lal Mirch’s unamused voice is on the other line, her annoyance plainly seeping through the phone. Some lackey must have done something in their training again. Then again, it didn’t take much to get her agitated these days.

“I need to reschedule the Vongola ball for this week.”

“What.”

“My student.” As if that explained the entire rules of the world. Some days, it did.

“…Fine, I won’t ask. Consider this to be a favor paid in.” 

“Good.”

There were a lot of reactions he could be having to this, one of which included gutting his student himself. At least to maximize Tsuna’s probability of success, being in a room full of people with mafia connections would give him a better chance.

Pain resistance training would be taking place next week, he didn’t want his student to miss it…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late (i do no deny procrastination...) I'm not great at reactionary chapters in general. Hopefully i can go back to a relatively weekly chapter. Thank you for reading!


	15. Parrot-Herbivore

Tsuna’s game plan is to lure Checkerface out. There was no point in trying to track him down since evidence was minimal and a highly sensitive subject within the mafia itself. So instead of going to him, what would force the elusive checkered-face out of his hiding?

He must be terribly bored with life if he was not allowed to die proper like a mortal man, the extension of his life was too obvious to have close friends and remain with the same identity without moving several times over. With the passport system tracking down the movements of individuals and constantly checking for fraud- either he remained hidden or was in control of some small government. With mafia connections as it was, it could be either.

No- he would have to remain constantly vigilant for his plan with the arcobaleno to remain in effect. Their relative safety would be assured by their mastery of pacific subjects and the same dying will that placed them in the position, guaranteed news of them spreading far and wide despite their attempts. 

“Reborn-sensei, you don’t take off your pacifier.” Tsuna notes.

“That’s correct, it would potentially destroy the universe.” Reborn nods, taking a sip of Mama’s freshly brewed coffee.

“So all one would need to do in order to lure out checker-face would be to destroy one of these objects. He certainly has invested a large amount of time and effort into his job…”

Reborn makes a sound in the back of his throat that sounds an awful lot like choking. 

“Or track someone with a high amount of flame potential to be one of the next arcobaleno. A sky, in any case- seeing as they would attract strong elements around them without him even intervening.” Tsuna muses. 

“The strongest sky I know is the Ninth.” Reborn says.

“I see, and he is already fully bonded.” Tsuna nods. “That would be difficult to maneuver around the political effects- but not impossible. Tell me, do bonds play a part in this system?”

“When a sky becomes and arcobaleno, their elements generally become arcobaleno as well because of the flame connection.”

“Yes… Ninth recently bonded to a very young aspiring hitman recently. They probably wouldn’t survive the process of arcobalenoing.”

Reborn hums in agreement.

“And after him, a direct bloodline would be probable: sky flames seem to be rather hereditary though I could mention a few people who would fit the bill personality wise… Someone young and barely bonded. The first set of guardians would all have to around the same level of flames, as nature selects…”

It takes a few seconds to process:

“You’re saying Checkerface is in the neighborhood?”

“I’m afraid that seems to be the deduction.”

Tsuna reaches down for his own coffee mug on to desk in front of him and take a long sip of the liquid, contemplating the next move for his search. Things in this time were much simpler, yet cruder then the refined method he had trained himself for- he would almost threaten for an adequate sharpening block for his mental prowess.

* * *

Tsuna walks past the front gate and into the abandoned amusement park, wherein Mukuro and his fellows had taken up residency for a temporary lack of formal papers and identification cards.

The grounds around the park were still thick with soupy mist flames flowing lazily upon the breeze. The smell of old rust and of decayed candy lingering in the air. 

“Sherlock, what brings you here so soon?” Mukuro’s voice calls out.

Tsuna turns, facing the fog behind him as it clears to show Mukuro’s kind smile. The picture of a man smiling was fake- the posturing was incorrect with the way his hand rested on the handle of his staff.

“The mystery of the checker-faced man.” Tsuna allows, “Have you encountered any strong flames around the town?” 

“Well, there’s definitely you… I have sensed a strong flame presence entering the town recently. Though I haven’t been able to distinguish its type. Do you think checker-face is coming to town?”

Mukuro dispels the illusion, leaning on his staff and watching Tsuna with cat-like eyes. 

“Not quite.” Tsuna says briefly, before turning around and walking right back to his own house for more coffee. He had full confidence the events would unfold themselves, as sky flames tended to push for- he needed only to touch upon a few more contacts.

* * *

There were seven figures in Mukuro’s mind. One was himself, standing alone as a single audience member toward a cast of dead men. Six others had seen death, walking past him and holding their tongues but to watch him.

He was sure they couldn’t speak- that their deaths had made them mute.

The ballerina watched with tear-stained eyes, calmly drifting with tears that never seemed to fall. As if they were frozen on his face and held back by his pride. The short knife in his back never dripping blood.

The artist examined him, drawing sketching on a piece of canvas that was always barely out of sight. He never changed his expression. Set in stone and meant to last for eternity. Paint smudges from his mouth where he poisoned himself by cleaning his brushes with his drinking cup.

The general watched from the eyes of a small boy, pasty skin and thin bones. He was dressed in a uniform was looked like a child dressed up in their parent’s attire- save for the small bloodstain on the breast pocket. 

His eyes were full of bitterness and fury. The young youth who didn’t even live long enough to see how unfair life was. – urging him to not die young like he had.

The actor smiled at him, a painted smile that whispered silent hints and secrets to help him pretend to be everything he wasn’t. The lit light of the stage alluring and cheerful save for the arrow in the actor’s heart that was supposed to be a prop…

The doctor-

The Old doctor never even looked his way, gazing at and searching for the last and final figure within his mindscape: the detective.

Mukuro used to think the detective was someone he once was, but a quick shake of the head from the doctor disproved that. The detective kept walking in and out of his mindscape whenever he pleased, seemingly uncaring for the rest of the people trapped within. He would be studying a book or a newspaper, scowling down until he would suddenly smirk at a breakthrough.

He would talk, sometimes.

It would be a mutter here, or a dry comment there- an unfamiliar voice piping up in his mindscape before disappearing. He would talk about cases and talk as if he was explaining to someone how it was solved. 

Mukuro listened. When the experiments became too hard, he would retreat here and listen to the crazy man rant about how the case was so basic he shouldn’t have been called in to help. The Doctor’s mouth would open trying to laugh or argue, but no sound ever came out. 

The Doctor trusted him with his life.

Out of all the people in his mindscape, the doctor was the only one who didn’t fear death. Perhaps it was because he never faced murder, or because he had nothing left. But Mukuro began to understand it was because he already decided what to do: follow Sherlock Holmes. 

Mukuro didn’t agree with the old doctor. No one was worth dying for. - But he would be lying if he wasn’t envious of that trust.

* * *

Tsuna tapped his phone, pressing in the number for Takeshi. He had been quite enthusiastic to exchange contact information. Tsuna should also buy a phone for Mukuro if possible. It would be convenient to save the trip to the amusement park.

BaseballNERD: Hey Tsuna!!! I’m getting out of the hospital soon. They called in a specialist doctor who fixed me up! ()

Nojoke: Was the specialist unfortunately short with curly sideburns?

BaseballNERD: YEAH!!! How’d you guess?!! (:O)

Nojoke: Intuition.

BaseballNERD: Where is the pineapple carnivore

Nojoke: Good morning Hibari. Mukuro is currently attending Kokuyo Junior High.

BaseballNERD: Thanks for avenging me (:))! So the pineapple carnivore was your friend?! What a coincidence!! (:D) (:D) does he like baseball?

Nojoke: I was merely performing my civic duty. I am unaware of his current interests. 

BaseballNERD: Hibari jumped out the window! (:O) 

BaseballNERD: The doctors are chasing him now….

BaseballNERD: He just jumped over the gate!

NoJoke: If you were a well-known con-man on the run from capable previous victims, where in Namimori would you hide?

BaseballNERD: Oh! Like a video game? 

BaseballNERD: I would hide in the west sector. Generally it houses the older part of Namimori- it still has bunkers underground from the war and tunnels that lead out of the city. People there don’t trust outsiders, so if anyone new came to town I would hear about it.

BaseballNERD: My dad moved there for the bird-watching (:D)

NoJoke: Thank you.

BaseballNERD: np!! Can I join your game after I get out of the hospital?!! (:D)

NoJoke: I am merely hunting down a friend’s acquaintance. 

BaseballNERD: Hana lives around there too!! She yells at disciplinary committee members… So be careful lol! (:D)

NoJoke: Very well.

The next step in Tsuna’s investigation was to search out the place in question, with a particular method learned from observing Mukuro’s own mist flames. 

Sky flames, which searched out other flame types with a vengeance: cannot be spread as well as mist flames. The most it could create was a barrier around him which required close proximity. Now he had an idea of the region, he could begin the process of narrowing it down. Seeing as he did not currently have any close relations within the town, there was no need to concern himself with possible harmony.

* * *

Hibari sprints at a standard pace, his coat flapping in the air generated by his movement. His school uniform on despite the herbivores trying to force him to wear the hospital gown. 

A lone herbivore walks into the street, beckoning their smaller herbivore to follow them.

Hibari dodges past them, jumping onto the wall and back down again before the momentum makes him pause- the undesirable ache from the pineapple herbivore’s attack biting him in the side. 

There is a buzzing in his pocket.

He slides the phone out of his pocket and flips it open in a smooth motion. 

SmartHerbivore: Today is not currently a school day. 

Hibari scowls, pivoting his direction toward the park where they had first met the pineapple carnivore. His skills were formidable, and Hibari was itching for a rematch.

He spots a small blond herbivore walking into the road, clutching a large book that was perhaps half his size- it was of no consequence.

Hibari moves faster to jump over him. 

A gang of darkly dresses men step out of the alleyway next to the blond herbivore, fake carnivores with guns and shady sunglasses that demanded their arrest. Over the years, Hibari’s instincts had been carefully honed to detect such subtle displays of villainess and return order swiftly.

Hibari pivots on the foot that does not hurt to stand on and slams a metal tonfa into the gut of the first man.

The first man crumbles to his knees, letting out a surprised grunt that trails into a whimper after impact. One of his cronies wipes out his gun and aims it in a well-honed trigger reaction. The second cronies freezes in his steps out of shock- lasting only as long as his consciousness as Hibari slams the metal pole into his head next. 

The crony with the gun fires the same moment as Hibari kicks his arm in a roundhouse kick- aiming the bullet into a nearby brick wall. He then receives a metal uppercut that knocks him out. 

The blond herbivore with the large book looks on in awe.

“Wow! You took them out so fast!” He gushes, opening his book and flipping quickly through the different pages. His eyes are wide and…. Sparkly. 

Hibari feels his tonfa lift into the air slowly- and he maintains a hard grip on them, falling into a combat stance. 

“Hibari kyoya, ranked second strongest in Namimori…” 

“Hm.” Hibari narrows his eyes. “Where is the pineapple carnivore?”

“Eh?” The blond herbivore blinks, the objects around them fall back to the earth and tilting his head to the side and looking thoughtful, “A pineapple carnivore?”

Stars fill his eyes again, swirling with unspoken galaxies while the gravity shifted once more toward the sky-

“Ah! This way!”

* * *

Hibari takes a handful of seeds, and extends it to the small bird sitting on the branch. It was bigger than Hi-bird and around the side of his fist. It chirps, then pecks at the seeds; grabbing onto them with its beak and swallowing them whole. 

“Excuse me sir, where did you get those seeds?” an herbivore asks, the caretaker for the birds in the exhibit. 

“Hn.”

“Um… I’m going to have to ask you don’t bring outside food into the zoo...” 

“Where is the pineapple herbivore?”

The small blond herbivore points toward an exhibit on the far side of the path, opening a map and looking through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He holds it up for Hibari to see and points toward one near their current location.

“We’re almost there!”

“Oh! You’re looking for the parrot exhibit?” The staff herbivore says, “I can lead you there if you like. You know they’re one of the few birds who can eat pineapple?”

“…”

Hibari narrows his eyes- the seeds in his hand are tossed to the side where a small horde of birds swoop down to peck on it.

“EH?!” The staff member cries. 

“Thank you for helping us!” The small blond herbivore says cheerfully, then moves quickly to follow Hibari out of the petting zoo.

Hibari walks away from the bird enclosure, no closer to finding the pineapple carnivore then before. He would default back to his original plan of hunting down the carnivore’s recent residence. The Smart-herbivore would pay for withholding information.

* * *

“Why don’t you try tracking down his flame type if you’re so sure he’s a mist?” Reborn comments, sitting comfortably on top of Tsuna’s mass of fluffy gravity-defying hair.

“While he is most definitely a mist, he wouldn’t be a strong one.”

“Ho?”

Tsuna shakes his head, “Incredibly skilled, yes- a strong will to live: no. Imagine for a moment; you have lived a very long lifetime, you have accomplished everything you ever set out to do; and all your friends are dead.”

“I see, so he would have run out of will by now.”

“In the very rare case he started a family, he would be able to maintain a certain amount of willpower. But as we have discussed, he is here on dubious business: any relationship is bound to fail.”

“…” Reborn thoughtfully stares out of his pure black eyes toward nothing in particular. 

Tsuna continues walking in silence, carrying a bag of milk in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. The grocer was only a few blocks away from their house and thus the two had been recruited by mama to fetch a few items on their outing. The coffee in the grocery bag was very necessary.

Hibari would probably try pile on more paperwork tomorrow. 

“How do you have allot of dying will?” Reborn asks.

“I must say that’s a rather odd question: I live for the thrill of the hunt… and my friends are alive.”

* * *

Hibari runs through the foggy mist of the abandoned amusement park with two tonfa’s placed in front of him. The Pineapple carnivore would be beaten today. 

The main building of the amusement park was still in the ruined remains as it was last time. But inside the building remained only a few hints of its previous occupants, mainly herbivore food wrappers tossed in a pile in a careless attempt of hygiene. The living supplies he had seen the last time he was here was now gone.

The blond herbivore is still following him, lugging around the large book until he became too tired.

Hibari frowns.

He picks the small animal up: then continues checking around the park for signs of life.

\---  
“Boss, you found a herbivo- child who can locate anything?” Kusakabe says over the phone, trying to keep disbelief from his voice. That way lies more ‘sparing’.

“How neat! Maybe Tsuna can ask him where his friend went! Or was it his friend’s friend…?’ Takeshi says thoughtfully, raising a single finger to his chin in thought.

‘How are you so accepting?’ Kusakabe thinks silently, out loud he says: “Do you know the name of the pineapple carnivore?”

Hibari responds briefly from his side of the phone “Hn. His name is Pineapple carnivore.” 

“Right…” 

“Hahaha! It’s because his hair looks like a pineapple!-” Takeshi laughs jovially.

Kusakabe cuts him off, “have you asked smart herb- err, Tsuna yet?

“Hn. The smart-herbivore refuses to answer my text.”

“Err… are you sure you can’t wait until school starts tomorrow?” Kusakabe says dully. 

“Hn.”

*click*

“He hung up?” Takeshi asks.

Kusakabe places his head in his hands. The light yellow bird on the windowsill chirps.

* * *

“Thank you for running out to get groceries,” Nana Sawada smiles winningly, placing a few ingredients on the cutting board for dinner. Some ingredients were best fresh.

“No problem, a good son will go on errands for his mother often.” Reborn says.

“Oh? But what’s this mug at the bottom of the bag?”

Tsuna speaks up from his position on the couch, a fresh coffee mug next to him and a newspaper in his hand. “A souvenir from an antique shop we went into today.” 

“Ah, how lively.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a procrastinating procrastinator who procrastinates. What do you readers think of mukuro's mindspace? can you imagine the amount of potential Futa has... he's probably on par or worst of Hyper-intuition...

**Author's Note:**

> I copy/pasted this from Word, so the formatting is kind of messed up. 
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments!  
> 


End file.
